Nightmares, Revisited
by Bits And Pieces
Summary: Sequel to, "Only in My Nightmares". Newkirk is continuing to have trouble recovering from what happened to him at the hands of an SS Major, and it's manifesting itself in his dreams.
1. Return of the nightmares

A/N: This is a sequel to my story, _Only in My Nightmares_. I had been considering writing a sequel, and after the wonderful encouragement and enthusiasm I received from Deana, decided to go ahead and do it. Once again, there is some graphic imagery alluded to, but no worse than the previous story.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hogan's Heroes characters. SS Major Steiger is my own creation.

* * *

_Dark. It always started in the dark. So dark that he couldn't see his hand, or anything else for that matter, in front of his face. So dark that he could almost feel it, like a blanket wrapped around him, tightly, that was trying to hold him prisoner, preventing him from moving. So dark that it became suffocating, making his heart race, his breathing quicken, his body break out in a cold sweat. So dark that the fear radiating through him became almost palpable, and he found himself desperate to get away; only he couldn't._

_And then the darkness would start to fade, and as his vision began to pick out objects here and there in front of him, a sound would reach his ears; a man's laugh, only not something containing mirth and happiness, but something with a darker origin; evil, malevolent, sinister. He would search with his eyes, trying to locate the source of that terrible laughter, but there was no one there. As the light grew, he could see a table in front of him, and slowly the outline of a figure would emerge, lying on top. His fear would turn into full-blown terror as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw someone approach the table. That someone would turn his face toward him, and his breath would catch in his throat as he recognized Major Steiger. The major would look at him, a horrible, twisted smile on his face, and then reach down to the figure on the table that had a sheet covering it. Steiger would grab the sheet and yank it off in one swift motion, revealing the body beneath. He would shut his eyes tightly, willing himself not to look, but then Steiger's demented voice would ring out, calling to him in a sickeningly sweet tone, "Newkirk, open your eyes, I have a present for you…" He would try to fight it, but as the major repeated it over and over, he would eventually give in, and as he opened his eyes, his gaze would land squarely on the body strapped to the table. It was a man, obviously dead, his insides gone, his face frozen in a mask of pain and horror. And it was Colonel Hogan._

Newkirk jerked himself awake, and sat up in bed, clutching his thin, scratchy blanket tightly in his hands. He was covered in sweat, breathing like a race horse that had just come from behind to take the win. His eyes were wide with terror, and his heart was going a mile-a-minute. He sat there, willing himself to calm down, hoping that whatever noises he might have been making hadn't woken anyone in the barracks. After a few minutes his breathing slowed, and the fear subsided. At last he was able to lie back down on his bunk, but he highly doubted he would get any more sleep that night.

* * * * * *

It had been almost a month and a half since Newkirk had been held prisoner for three days at the interrogation facility run by SS Major Steiger, and nearly a month since Steiger had been killed, and they'd rescued the Russian flyers that were at the facility where the unscrupulous major had been torturing them mercilessly. Newkirk had been terrorized by Steiger; forced to watch his brand of interrogation, and the psychological trauma that he'd suffered had caused him to temporarily forget what had happened, until it came out in his nightmares. He'd eventually recalled everything, and once they'd killed Steiger, had been so relieved the major was gone, that he had just assumed he'd be able to get back to normal, and put that whole horrible experience behind him. But it didn't take long before he started having nightmares again; only this time they weren't about what had happened to him when he was being held at that horrifying place. This time they were always the same…and they always ended with Colonel Hogan, on that table in Steiger's torture room, dead.

Newkirk had been trying to hold it together, pretending nothing was wrong, acting as near to his old self as possible, but each night he had a nightmare, it brought him closer to exhaustion…the lack of sleep plus the fear and panic he was going through was taking its toll. He didn't know how much longer he could keep the masquerade going. He didn't think anyone suspected; not yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time before someone would notice, and he had his money on the Colonel for that. Not to mention the fact that he was becoming more and more on edge. He wished for the umpteenth time that he could figure out what to do, but no solution seemed to be forthcoming. So he carried on as best he could, joking with his mates, playing cards, carrying out his orders, and acting as normal as possible.

* * * * * *

Morning arrived as it always did; too early and too noisily. The men had barely opened their eyes when Schultz came through the door, bellowing that it was time for roll call. The occupants of Barracks two groaned and shouted their disapproval, while scrambling to get dressed and out the door as quickly as possible.

Newkirk jumped down from his bunk, rubbing his eyes and pulling on his uniform. This was the fourth night in a row that he had gotten only four or five hours of sleep, and it was starting to hit him; hard. His eyes felt like they were burning, and his thoughts were becoming muddled, scrambling around in his brain, disappearing before he was fully aware of them. Hogan passed by him on the way out the door, and as he looked at him, the Colonel's face took on a look of concern. Newkirk had a strong feeling that Hogan was going to want to talk to him after roll call, and, frankly, he didn't know what to tell him. But considering the way he felt at the moment, he knew it was time to say something. He didn't think he could go on this way anymore.

After standing outside for what seemed an indeterminable amount of time, and finally being dismissed by the ever un-punctual Colonel Klink, they shuffled back into the barracks, grateful that it was over for now. LeBeau took his place at the stove, pulling out some pans and starting on breakfast, while Kinch and Carter took a seat at the common room table, still bleary-eyed from the earliness of the hour.

Hogan looked at Newkirk and, after catching the corporal's eye, motioned for him to follow him into his quarters. Newkirk, not surprised, went willingly, actually relieved to be getting it out in the open. When they were both inside the small room, Hogan shut the door and gestured to Newkirk to take a seat on the bottom bunk. The Colonel turned his chair that was near the desk, and sat down facing the corporal. He looked at him with concern, and said. "Newkirk, you haven't been looking too good lately. Aren't you getting enough sleep?"

Newkirk looked back, debating what to tell him. At last he sighed. "No, I 'aven't, Colonel; I wish I could tell you different. I've been 'avin' nightmares again, and I don't know 'ow to make them stop."

"I suspected as much, Newkirk," Hogan replied. "You know, if you're still having trouble dealing with what happened, maybe it would help to talk about it. You can always come to me, you know."

Newkirk flashed him a small smile. "I know, sir, and I appreciate it. But I'm not sure anyone can 'elp me with this. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Do you think Wilson might 'ave somethin' that could 'elp me sleep? Somethin' that'll keep me from dreamin'?"

Hogan frowned. "I don't know, Newkirk, and frankly, I'm not sure I want you taking something to help you sleep. You might become too dependent on it…"

"Just for one night?" Newkirk cut in. "I could really use the rest."

Hogan contemplated it. "All right," he said at last, "I'll talk to Wilson, see what he says. In the meantime, do you feel up to a little spy work tonight? I got a message from the Underground earlier; they have some valuable information to pass to us, and the operative will be leaving it in a safe in one of the rooms at the Heidelberg Hotel this evening. I'll need you to open it."

"Sure, Colonel, I can do it," Newkirk responded. Maybe having a job to do outside the camp would help get his mind off of the dreams that had been haunting him for weeks now.

After they left Hogan's quarters, they joined up with the others, who were already seated around the table, waiting with anticipation – and hunger – for LeBeau to finish making breakfast. Newkirk found his stomach rumbling at the delicious aroma coming from the stove, and sat down next to Carter, while Hogan took a seat opposite him, next to Kinch. LeBeau came over and poured some coffee into each man's mug, and then went back to preparing their morning meal.

"Hey, Newkirk, you look really tired today, buddy," Carter remarked as he got a good look at the Englishman. "Did you have trouble sleeping last night? I could have sworn I heard you making noises…"

"Well, thanks for bloody noticin'," Newkirk snapped irritably; then, seeing Carter's face fall, his voice softened. "I'm all right, Andrew, really."

Carter nodded, his expression brightening a little. "Yeah, I figured you were; I just thought maybe you were having bad dreams again, is all."

Newkirk grabbed the cup in front of him, now containing steaming hot coffee, and lifted it to his lips. Before taking a sip, he murmured, "No more than usual, mate."

His comment didn't go unnoticed by Hogan.

"Newkirk, are you sure you're up to going with me tonight?" Hogan asked, still concerned.

Newkirk made a face and shuddered a little after downing some of hot liquid in his cup. He cleared his throat, while seeming to cough at the same time, then looked at Hogan and replied, "Yes, sir, no problem." His gaze shifted back to his cup, and he added, "As long as I can 'ave some more of this 'ere coffee before we 'ead out. Blimey, Louis, 'ow strong did you make this, anyway?"

LeBeau shot him a look of surprise and mock-indignation. "I don't know what you're talking about, Newkirk. I made it the same way I always do."

Hogan smiled at the Frenchman and said, "It's fine, LeBeau. But that's not a bad idea. I think Newkirk and I could both use some coffee before we leave tonight. It might help keep us on our toes."

"Speaking of that, Colonel," Kinch interjected, "I got a message from the Underground, and they said that when you get there, to check into room 106. Their agent will have already left, but the room safe will have the information in it."

"All right, thanks, Kinch," Hogan replied. Then he took a sip of LeBeau's coffee and inwardly winced. Newkirk was right; it was unusually strong this time.

* * * * * *

That night, after the final roll call, Hogan and Newkirk went down into the tunnel and changed into civilian clothes. They climbed up the ladder to the hollowed-out tree stump; slipping silently into the surrounding woods, while easily avoiding the searchlights as they had done countless times before. The night was clear, and they made good time weaving their way through the forest. They finally reached the outskirts of town and, once the coast was clear, moved quickly onto one of the more deserted streets and slowed their gait; strolling casually to their destination. The Hotel wasn't too far, and when they reached it, they went in and approached the front desk. Hogan turned on the charm with the woman clerk, inquiring if they had room 106 available; it was his lucky number. The woman giggled, and told him that room 106 was indeed empty, and after a few more winks and smiles, and of course, money from Hogan, the woman handed over the key. As they walked away, Newkirk rolled his eyes, and the two of them walked down the hall, finding the room easily enough. Hogan unlocked the door and they entered. When they got inside, they spotted the room safe easily enough; it was in the far corner.

Newkirk went over to it and squatted down, examining the dial briefly, then put his ear up to the safe door and listened intently as he spun the dial. He gave it a few experimental turns before getting down to business. His experienced hands and keen hearing had it open in no time, and as he swung open the door, he turned his head and smiled up at Hogan.

Hogan returned his smile, and came over, leaning down to examine the contents of the safe. There was a large manila envelope inside, and he reached in and pulled it out. Upon opening it, he pulled out the papers inside. They held detailed plans and maps for an offensive that the Germans were planning in North Africa. Satisfied, Hogan stuffed the papers back into the envelope and motioned for Newkirk to close the safe.

Newkirk closed and locked the safe, and Hogan slid the envelope under his jacket. They exited the room and made their way back to the entrance, hoping to slip out of the Hotel and get back to Stalag 13 as quickly as possible. But the woman behind the front desk spotted them and asked if there was something they needed. Hogan flashed her one of his most brilliant smiles, causing her to almost visibly swoon, and inquired about someplace to get a drink and a bite to eat. She smiled sweetly and suggested the restaurant next door, to which Hogan thanked her and tipped his hat at her. She batted her eyes and blushed furiously, and before she could recover, Hogan turned to leave, grabbing Newkirk's arm as he headed towards the door.

They emerged into the cold night air, once again strolling unhurriedly down the street, retracing their steps to where they could duck into the woods and head back to camp. As they passed by the restaurant that the clerk had mentioned, they couldn't help stopping for a moment to peer in. The smell of freshly prepared food came wafting out, making both of their stomachs rumble. They glanced at each other, and then Hogan said, "I think we can spare a few minutes for a bite to eat, don't you, Newkirk?"

Newkirk smiled. "I thought you'd never ask, Colonel."

They went inside and took a seat at one of the empty tables. The place was hopping, but the service was fast; they didn't have to wait very long for the waiter to take their order. The food arrived quickly, as well, and Hogan made a mental note to remember this place, the next time they had to come here. Once they'd finished stuffing their faces, they knew they better get going. They got up and made their way to the front, and as Hogan was paying the bill, Newkirk found himself glancing around the crowded restaurant.

Hogan finished up with the cashier and tapped Newkirk on the arm to let him know it was time to go. Suddenly Newkirk gasped, and grabbed Hogan's arm, his fingers digging in hard through the jacket material. Hogan looked at Newkirk's shocked expression and, noticing he was staring toward the back of the restaurant, followed his gaze. He didn't see anything suspicious, so he leaned in a little and asked quietly, "Newkirk, what's wrong?"

Newkirk's grip tightened a little, and he whispered fiercely back, "Colonel, don't you see 'im? The man back there near the corner…it's Major Steiger!"


	2. Insomnia takes its toll

"Newkirk, what are you talking about?" Hogan whispered back loudly, "Steiger's dead."

Newkirk turned his head to look at Hogan, his eyes wide with fear. "Colonel, I saw 'im!" He exclaimed, still trying to keep his voice low. "'E's in the back, near the corner on the left side of the room…look!" Then he jerked his head slightly in the direction that he'd been looking earlier, motioning for Hogan to take a peek.

Hogan glanced at the far left corner, scanning the patrons' faces, and saw no one who fit Steiger's description. He looked back at Newkirk and said, "Newkirk, Steiger's not back there; in fact, I didn't see anyone who even looks like him."

"What?" Now Newkirk turned to look in the corner where he'd seen the SS Major, and, not spotting him where he'd been a moment ago, darted his eyes back and forth across the far end of the room. "Where did 'e go?" He muttered, then looked back at Hogan, "Colonel, I'm tellin' you, 'e was there; I know I saw 'im!"

"You must have imagined it, Newkirk," Hogan decided, and then started to walk toward the door, inadvertently pulling Newkirk with him, who was still hanging onto his arm. "C'mon, let's get out of here," he said as he led him out of the restaurant.

When they got outside, Newkirk seemed to suddenly realize that he was still gripping the Colonel's arm tightly. He quickly released his hold, shooting Hogan a look of embarrassment. Then they began to stroll down the street until they arrived at the spot that led to the woods, and the camp beyond. When the coast was clear, they slipped away, quickening their pace once they were beyond the town. They made it back to Stalag 13 undetected, and snuck in the way they had left; through the tree stump. When they arrived at the main tunnel area, they found a tired-looking Kinch dutifully manning the radio.

"Hey, Colonel...Newkirk," Kinch addressed them as they entered, straightening up in his chair, "How did it go?"

Hogan smiled and pulled the envelope out from under his jacket. "No problems, Kinch," he answered.

"Piece of cake," Newkirk added, then let out a huge yawn.

"Uh, I think _someone_ needs to get some sleep," Hogan took a few steps toward Newkirk, closing the distance, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Why don't you get changed, and then go upstairs and crawl into your bunk? I can finish up down here."

Newkirk gazed at Hogan, his eyes already drooping, and muttered, "You sure, Colonel?"

Hogan grinned. "I'm sure," he said, "Go on."

Newkirk didn't have to be told twice. He shuffled over to where he'd changed out of his uniform into the civilian attire he was now wearing, and quickly changed back. Then he plodded over to the ladder and climbed up, making a beeline to the double bunk that he shared with Carter in the barracks above. He leaped up to the top one and, after stretching out and getting as comfortable as he could on the lumpy mattress, fell asleep almost instantly.

It wasn't long before Hogan and Kinch came up from the tunnel to get what shut-eye they could before morning roll call. Hogan bid Kinch a quiet, "Good night," to which Kinch likewise responded. Then the colonel headed for his quarters, grateful for a chance to lie down for a while. But before he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help mulling over in his mind what had happened at the restaurant. Newkirk had seemed so sure that he'd seen Major Steiger, hadn't he? Of course, he knew that was impossible; Steiger was gone. So maybe Newkirk had seen someone who looked a little like the major, and his imagination had just run away with him. That was the possibility he preferred over the one that was nagging at him now…Newkirk was seeing things. If the corporal was starting to hallucinate, did that mean he was still suffering from the psychological trauma that Steiger had put him through? What if this was some kind of symptom, a precursor to something worse, like a complete mental breakdown? And, most importantly, what was he going to do if Newkirk started cracking up on him? The thought made him shudder, and he shut his eyes tight, willing it away. No, Newkirk was fine; it was just a case of mistaken identity.

* * * * * *

_Dark. It always started in the dark. So dark that he couldn't see his hand, or anything else for that matter, in front of his face. So dark that…_

Newkirk moaned in his sleep as the nightmare once again took over, growing more terrified as it ran its course. Only this time, when it got to the part where he opened his eyes and saw Hogan on the table, he found himself in the restaurant that they'd been at earlier that evening, and the Colonel was strapped to one of the dining tables, in the same condition as in his usual nightmare, while Steiger was standing in the back corner, staring at him with a cruel, frozen smile on his face.

Newkirk reacted like all the other times before; sitting up in his bunk, clutching his blanket, sweating, breathing rapidly, his heart pounding. After a time he calmed down, and lay back on the bunk, staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling. Had he really seen Steiger in that restaurant? Or was his exhausted mind starting to play tricks on him? And how was he ever going to conquer whatever was happening to him, when he couldn't even get a decent night's rest? How much sleep had he gotten this time? Two hours? Three? His gut started twisting in knots as the anger and frustration that had been building in him now surfaced; feeding his anxiety of knowing how desperately he needed to sleep, and knowing that he wouldn't get it. He inhaled deeply, and then let out a huge sigh. Somehow, he was going to get one good night's sleep if it killed him! If Hogan didn't talk to Wilson tomorrow, he would.

* * * * * *

"Raus, raus, everybody up; time for roll call!" Schultz bellowed as he flung open the barrack's door. The men were already awake this time, and most of them were in various stages of getting dressed. They grumbled as Schultz yelled for them to hurry up, and soon enough, they were heading out the door, bracing themselves for another hour of standing in the morning cold.

Newkirk had jumped down from his bunk and, since he was still in his uniform, having been too tired to change, he grabbed his overcoat and slipped it on. He was feeling especially cold this morning, and as he took his place in line outside, found himself shivering despite the added warmth of his coat. His eyelids felt like lead, and each time he blinked them shut, they took just a little longer to open.

As Hogan stepped into his spot next to Newkirk, he turned his head to give him a quick glance, and frowned. Newkirk looked worse today than he had yesterday. The Englishman was obviously shivering; he appeared to be having trouble keeping his eyes open, and even in the dark, Hogan thought his color looked a little off. "Newkirk," he called out to him quietly and, getting no response, raised his voice a bit and said, "Newkirk, are you okay?"

Newkirk blinked rapidly a few times and looked over at Hogan. "What?" was all that came out of him.

"I said, are you okay, Newkirk?" Hogan repeated.

Newkirk looked confused by the question. At last his face registered comprehension, and he nodded. "Oh, yes, sir, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Hogan replied, concern evident in his voice, "In fact, after roll call I'm going to have Wilson check you over." _Which is what I should have done, yesterday, _he admonished himself.

"Right, Colonel," Newkirk answered rather slowly, and let out a giant yawn. "After roll call…" he mumbled, and then closed his eyes and started swaying in Hogan's direction.

Hogan, alarmed now, caught him and tried to set him upright. LeBeau, who was standing to Newkirk's left, noticed also, and reached up to grab Newkirk's arm to help steady him. Newkirk opened his eyes and gave his head a quick shake, realizing that he was listing, and quickly righted himself.

"Oh, uh, blimey, Colonel…sorry about that," he managed to utter, and brought himself to attention, feeling embarrassed at having almost fallen asleep at roll call.

"It's all right, Newkirk," Hogan reassured him, "Just try to hang on until Klink dismisses us, okay?"

"Okay…I mean, yes, sir," Newkirk was becoming confused again. Why couldn't he think straight? It felt like his head was full of mud, and his thoughts were just getting stuck up there; trapped in the thick, gooey substance.

Newkirk managed to stand there until they were finally dismissed; closing his hands tightly and digging his fingernails into his palms every time he felt himself starting to fade. By the time they returned to the barracks, he had numerous crescent-shaped red marks on the insides of his hands. He began to walk over to the common room table, intending to sit down and get started on the coffee, but before he got halfway there, Hogan grabbed his arm and steered him toward his quarters. He led him over to the bunk, and practically pulled him down on the bottom one, forcing him to take a seat.

"Now, you just sit right here, Newkirk, and I'll be back in a minute with Wilson." Hogan stated, making it sound like an order, and then he was gone.

Newkirk sat there, staring out into Hogan's quarters, his eyelids growing heavy again. He blinked a few times, and each time his eyes opened, it wasn't quite as wide as the time before. _I'm sure the gov'nor won't mind if I just lay me 'ead down for a bit, _he thought absently, and, before he knew what he was doing, he'd stretched out on the bunk and closed his eyes, asleep before his head hit the mattress.

Hogan returned a few minutes later with Wilson in tow, and had no trouble noticing that Newkirk was sound asleep, judging by the snores emanating from him. He flashed his English corporal a look of sympathy, and then grabbed the blanket from his bunk above, and spread it over Newkirk. Then he motioned for Wilson to follow him over to the door. When they got there, he whispered, "It's like I told you, I don't think he's been getting much sleep, and his nightmares have come back. Is there anything you can do?"

Wilson appeared lost in thought for a moment. "Well, I can give him a sleeping pill; that should help him get a good night's sleep. But I don't want to do it too often; drugging him is just going to create more problems."

Hogan nodded. "I know. But maybe tonight, at least, you could give him one, and we'll see how he is tomorrow."

Wilson glanced over at Newkirk, and then back at Hogan. "You know, Colonel, if you let him catch up on his sleep now, he might not need it."

It was Hogan's turn to look at Newkirk. "You have a point, Wilson. Let's let him sleep." He opened the door to his quarters and gestured for Wilson to exit first. Hogan followed, closing the door to let Newkirk sleep without distractions.

When they emerged from his quarters, Hogan saw three pairs of concerned eyes looking up at him from the common room table. He knew he better say something to his men, so he headed over to join them.

Before he could take a seat, Carter blurted out worriedly, "Colonel, what's wrong with Newkirk?"

"He's all right, Carter," Hogan said as he sat down, "He's just very tired. Apparently he hasn't been getting enough sleep lately."

"I knew it!" Carter exclaimed, "He's been having nightmares again, hasn't he? I know because I hear him making noises up there sometimes in the middle of the night, like he's scared or in pain, and then he sits up in bed, breathing real fast…"

"Carter," Hogan interrupted him, "How long has this been going on?"

Carter thought about it for a moment. "Oh, I'd say at least a week and a half, or so. I think that's when I started noticing it."

"And you didn't you tell anyone?" LeBeau now asked; thoroughly surprised. It wasn't like Carter to keep something like that to himself.

"Well, you know how Newkirk is; he doesn't like anyone to make a fuss over him. I was afraid if I told you guys, he'd get mad at me."

LeBeau looked at him, annoyed. "Didn't it ever occur to you that he might need some help, Carter?"

Carter's eyes widened, and he replied defensively, "But, he seemed fine! I mean, he's been acting like his usual self; I didn't think there was anything wrong with him." He turned to look at Hogan, his expression now showing guilt, "Colonel, I swear, if I thought for one minute that Newkirk was in trouble, you know I would have told you…"

Hogan held up his hand. "I know, Carter, this isn't your fault, you had no way of knowing how much sleep Newkirk's been losing, or how it would affect him," he said, trying to reassure the sergeant, "Newkirk should have told me himself, but he's too stubborn for his own good! Look, don't worry, okay? And that goes for all of you. Newkirk will be fine; he just needs to catch up on his sleep a little."

Carter, LeBeau, and Kinch all looked a bit more relieved at Hogan's statement. The colonel smiled, and was about to ask LeBeau the status of the coffee, when Kinch spoke up.

"Oh, Colonel, I got a message from the Underground, and they wanted to let us know that a courier will be passing through town tomorrow night, and he'll be stopping at the Hoffbrau for dinner. He's one of ours, actually, a plant in the Gestapo, and he's going to be carrying a locked briefcase containing top secret material. He wants us to show up at the Hoffbrau, and he'll arrange it so that we can get a look at the contents of the case. We just need to bring someone that can open it."

Hogan sighed. He knew what that meant; he'd have to bring Newkirk. "Okay, Kinch, tell them we'll be there."

* * * * * *

"_Newkirk, open your eyes, I have a present for you…"_

"No," Newkirk muttered in his sleep, once again at the mercy of his nightmare. He was already breathing fast, and beads of sweat were appearing on his face. As the dream moved to its usual conclusion, he was unaware of Hogan slipping quietly into his quarters to retrieve something from his desk.

Hogan took one look at Newkirk, and knew he was in the throes of another nightmare. He stood there, uncertain whether to wake the corporal up, or tiptoe out of the room, and let him wake up on his own. Then Newkirk let out a terrified moan, and that decided it for him. He went over to the bunk and sat down on the edge of it, placing his hand on Newkirk's shoulder.

"Newkirk," Hogan called out softly, while shaking his shoulder gently, "It's time to wake up."

Newkirk moaned louder. All of a sudden his eyes flew open and he sat up on the bunk, almost bumping into Hogan, who'd been leaning over him. He was sweating and breathing hard, and his eyes looked like they were staring into the pits of hell. Hogan just sat there with his hand on Newkirk's shoulder, periodically voicing his reassurance that everything was okay, while watching him slowly calm down and gain control. At last Newkirk seemed to be more or less back to normal, and he looked at Hogan, his eyes coming into focus.

"Colonel, you're okay!" Newkirk exclaimed, looking at him with surprise, "I thought…I mean, Steiger, 'e…I thought 'e killed you."

"Is that what you've been dreaming, Newkirk?" Hogan replied, his face reflecting his own surprise.

"Yes, sir," Newkirk was becoming more awake, "'E cut you open; pulled out your insides…" his voice trailed off.

"No wonder you're having so much trouble sleeping." Hogan said, understanding now. "Newkirk, it's only a dream; I'm fine. And Steiger's dead, there's no way he can hurt me, or you, either."

Newkirk stared at him, as if debating whether or not to believe him. At last he replied, "I know, Colonel, you're right. I just wish you could convince me brain of that. Maybe then I could stop 'avin' this bloody nightmare!"

Hogan nodded at him with sympathy, wishing he could do that, too.

"So, 'ow long 'ave I been sleepin' in 'ere, Colonel?" Newkirk asked him.

Hogan looked at his watch, then back at Newkirk. "About forty minutes."

Newkirk's face fell, "Ah, Colonel, I'm so bloomin' tired," he responded, sighing in defeat.

"Don't worry, Newkirk," Hogan assured him, "I'm going to have Wilson give you something so you can get a good night's sleep tonight." _I need you alert for tomorrow night, _he thought to himself, guiltily.

Newkirk looked at him gratefully, his eyes bloodshot and watery. "Thanks, gov'nor," he said.

Hogan smiled at him, and then he stood up and moved aside, giving Newkirk room to get up from the bunk. As they left his quarters, Hogan decided that he was going to find a way to help Newkirk overcome the nightmares that were still plaguing him; no matter what it took.


	3. Sleep doesn't cure everything

Newkirk managed to stay awake for the rest of the day, although he couldn't shake the fuzziness that had taken up residence in his brain. He knew Hogan would have let him take another nap if he'd asked, but he also knew how it would end, and he didn't feel like suffering through another nightmare; he decided he'd rather be tired. One thing he did notice; however, was that the other guys, especially Carter, were throwing a lot of sympathetic looks in his direction, and it irritated him. Hogan must have told them about his 'problem', and, even though part of him understood why, he still wished the Colonel had kept it to himself. Nothing made him more uncomfortable than having his mates worry about him.

At last the day was almost over, and as the time for lights out approached, Wilson made an appearance in Barracks two, and gave Newkirk something that would knock him out for the next six to eight hours. Then he helped the corporal up to his bunk, where Newkirk stretched out, and almost instantly fell asleep.

The next thing Newkirk knew, a hand was shaking his shoulder, and a voice was telling him that it was time to get up; they had roll call in a few minutes. He opened his eyes, looked into Carter's face and groaned. "Andrew, did you 'ave to wake me up?"

"I thought you'd want to get up and get dressed; Schultz will be here any minute," Carter answered.

Newkirk sighed. "Yeah, thanks," he responded, and proceeded to sit up on his bunk, then swing his legs over the side and jump down. As he changed into his uniform, he suddenly realized that he'd slept all night; without the usual interruption by one of his Steiger-induced nightmares. He also noticed that, although he was still a little drowsy, he was thinking much more clearly, and he felt better than he had for at least a week. _Whatever Wilson gave me; it did the trick, didn't it? _He smiled to himself. He'd have to thank the medic when he saw him later.

Hogan noticed right away that Newkirk was feeling better. When he took his place in line for roll call, he glanced at the corporal, and could see that he looked more alert, and his color was much improved. Newkirk was even cracking jokes at the Kommandant's morning speech; something he hadn't seen him do for a while. He hoped this meant that Newkirk would finally start sleeping through the night, his nightmares would fade away, and everything could get back to normal.

After roll call, the men shuffled into the barracks, and Hogan and his men gathered around the long table near the stove, while LeBeau set up to work on breakfast. Hogan, Kinch, and Carter took a seat, but before Newkirk joined them, he walked up next to LeBeau and, with a wave of his hand and a slight bow, grabbed the coffee pot from the stove and said, "Allow me, Louis." He then proceeded to fill the men's cups, replace the coffee pot, and sit down next to Carter.

Carter looked at him with a big smile on his face. "Well, you sure are in a good mood this morning, Newkirk!"

"And why shouldn't I be?" Newkirk smiled back, and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better, Newkirk," Hogan spoke up, "Because I've got a job for you tonight."

Newkirk eyed Hogan suspiciously. "That wouldn't be why you let Wilson give me that sleepin' pill last night, would it, Colonel?"

"It never crossed my mind," Hogan replied in his most innocent voice, and then grinned.

"That's what I thought, sir," Newkirk uttered, his eyes narrowing briefly, and then he smirked at him.

Hogan's smile widened a little, then suddenly disappeared as he put on his 'let's get down to business' face. "I've been in touch with the Underground, and we've come up with a plan to get a look inside the briefcase that the courier will have with him when he stops at the Hoffbrau tonight. Newkirk," he addressed his English corporal, "I need you to come along so you can open the case." Then he looked over at his French corporal, "LeBeau, I want you to come, too. You get to bring the camera and take pictures of the top secret papers once Newkirk gets the briefcase open."

"Yes, sir," LeBeau replied, and then his brow furrowed, "But, how will we get a look at the papers in the middle of a crowded restaurant?"

"You read my mind, Louis," Newkirk muttered.

Hogan flashed them a lopsided grin. "I'm glad you asked that question, gentlemen," he replied, sounding a bit amused, "When we get to the Hoffbrau, I will be going in first, and I'll take a seat near the courier. After we give each other the recognition code, he'll excuse himself and head to the men's room, where, once he's sure he's alone, he'll unlock the briefcase from his wrist, and slip it out the window where you two will be waiting. Newkirk, you'll unlock it, and LeBeau, you'll take pictures. As soon as you're finished, you'll pass the case back in through the window, and he'll chain it up to his wrist again. Then he'll come back into the restaurant and sit down. You two will wait a couple of minutes, and then come in and casually take a seat. The courier will leave once you arrive, and we'll have a few drinks, and then take off."

"Hey, that's a great plan, Colonel!" Carter piped up.

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau agreed, "Only, what happens if someone wants to use the men's room while the courier's in there?"

"That's why you guys are gonna have to work fast," Hogan said, "And if I see anyone approaching the men's room, I'll try to head him off for a few minutes."

"Well, Colonel, I suppose we can't go on a mission without it havin' a few risks, now, can we?" Newkirk grinned at him.

"Now, what fun would that be?" Hogan smiled back, and everyone chuckled.

* * * * * *

That night, after the final roll call, Hogan, Newkirk, and LeBeau went down into the tunnel and changed into Gestapo uniforms. Hogan had decided the uniforms would create less suspicion if they were seen conversing with the courier, who would also be in his Gestapo uniform. They then slipped out the emergency exit, and made their way to the Hoffbrau.

When they arrived, Hogan went in first, as planned. He spotted the courier easily enough, sitting by himself at one of the tables, and took the seat adjacent to him at the table. They exchanged the proper recognition code, and then the courier got up and went to the men's room. Once inside, there was a man just finishing up, washing his hands, and he had to wait for him to leave. Then he quickly removed the briefcase and shoved it out the window, where Newkirk and LeBeau were waiting.

Newkirk had the case open in a matter of seconds, and as he pulled out the papers inside, he held them up for LeBeau, who snapped pictures of them as fast as he could. Then Newkirk put them back in the briefcase, and let out a whistle, trying to sound like a bird, to let the courier know they were done.

The courier answered likewise, and Newkirk passed the case back in through the window, where the man inside fastened it back to the chain on his wrist and returned to the restaurant to take his seat next to Hogan. A few minutes later Newkirk and LeBeau entered, and nonchalantly wandered up to their table, feigning recognition of Hogan as a fellow Gestapo officer, who politely invited them to have a seat at their table. After introductions were made, the courier then stood up to leave, citing a deadline that he had to meet. The remaining three 'Gestapo' officers sat back and enjoyed a few drinks, and then it was their turn to be on their way.

Hogan, Newkirk, and LeBeau got up from the table, and headed for the door. Hogan stopped to pay the cashier, and LeBeau stopped behind him; Newkirk bringing up the rear. As they stood there, the door opened, and a few people entered, walking past the trio as they made their way into the restaurant. The three men had their backs to the door, and were paying no attention to the recent arrivals.

Suddenly Newkirk felt a body brush up against him, and he could have sworn he heard someone whisper his name, very faintly. He turned his head to look at the man who had just passed behind him, and at that moment the man turned back to return his gaze.

Newkirk sucked in his breath and eyes flew open wide; it was Major Steiger!

He stared, frozen in place as Steiger smiled at him, his eyes radiating an intensity that chilled Newkirk to his very core. Then the Englishman regained his senses enough to turn back to Hogan and LeBeau, grabbing the Frenchman's arm this time, since he was standing between him and Hogan.

"Louis," he hissed, and when LeBeau glanced at him with surprise, he said under his breath, "Steiger's right behind me!"

"What?" LeBeau exclaimed as quietly as possible. He leaned back a little to look past Newkirk, but there was no one there. As he craned his neck, scanning the back of the room he said, "Are you sure, Pierre?"

Hogan had noticed by now, and, leaning in, keeping his voice low, asked, "What's going on, fellas?"

LeBeau whipped his head around to look at Hogan. "Newkirk said he saw Major Steiger standing behind him," he whispered to him.

Hogan raised his head and glanced slowly around the restaurant. Not only didn't he see Steiger, he didn't see anyone who even remotely looked like him. He let out a sigh and then reached over and tapped Newkirk's arm. "Steiger's not here, Newkirk," he informed the fearful-looking corporal, "You're seeing things again." Then he glanced at his men, giving them a look that said, _let's go, _and ushered them out of the restaurant, pulling Newkirk by the arm when he initially resisted.

When they got outside, Hogan led them behind the building, and then turned to look at Newkirk. "All right, what's going on?" He exclaimed, thoroughly exasperated by now.

"Colonel, I swear to you, I saw Steiger in there, I know it was 'im!" Newkirk shot back, becoming annoyed now that Hogan didn't believe him.

"Just like you knew it was him the other night, right?" Hogan retorted, feeling his own anger surfacing.

LeBeau had been glancing back and forth between the two men, his face registering surprise. After Hogan's remark, his gaze returned to Newkirk. "You saw Steiger at the Heidelberg Hotel?" He blurted out.

"No, Louis," Newkirk answered him, "At the restaurant next door. And yes, I saw 'im there, too!" He replied defensively.

"Look, this isn't the time or the place to discuss this," Hogan stated, "We'll talk about it when we get back to camp." Then he turned towards the woods, gesturing with his hand for Newkirk and LeBeau to follow.

They travelled in silence, weaving their way through the familiar woods, and when they arrived safely back at camp, they went below to the tunnel, and changed out of the Gestapo uniforms they were wearing. Kinch and Carter were both there; Kinch manning the radio, and Carter hanging out, waiting for their return to see how it went, but more importantly, to make sure they made it back okay.

Once they were back in their regular uniforms, Hogan told Carter to get started on developing the film that was in the camera that LeBeau was now handing to him. Then he glanced at Newkirk and, with no more than a look, let him know he wanted to speak to him right away. He then headed up to his quarters, expecting Newkirk to follow.

Newkirk did, and once he'd left, LeBeau filled Kinch and Carter in on what happened at the Hoffbrau.

"So, Newkirk thought he saw Major Steiger," Kinch seemed to be mulling it over, "But you and the Colonel didn't…"

"No, and we didn't see anyone who looked like him, either," LeBeau said, "And I also found out that Newkirk thought he saw Steiger when he and the Colonel went out the other night, in the restaurant next to the Heidelberg Hotel."

"Gosh!" Carter now piped up, "How could Newkirk be seeing Major Steiger? I mean, he's dead!"

"We know, Carter," LeBeau rolled his eyes, "He's not really seeing Steiger, he's only imagining it."

"Oh," Carter replied, then, after thinking it over for a moment, added, "Why would Newkirk be imagining he's seeing Steiger?"

Before LeBeau could let out one of his sarcastic replies, Kinch answered, "I'm sure the Colonel is trying to figure that out right now."

* * * * * *

When Newkirk entered Hogan's quarters, the colonel was already sitting in his chair, which was turned to face his bottom bunk. "Newkirk, have a seat," he told the corporal, gesturing toward the bunk.

"Yes, sir," Newkirk uttered as he walked over and sat down, starting to feel like this was becoming an uncomfortable routine.

Hogan looked at him, then let out a huge sigh. "Newkirk, I know you're still having trouble dealing with what happened to you at that facility…"

"Colonel," Newkirk cut in, "I know what you're thinkin', but I swear to you, I really saw Steiger at the Hoffbrau tonight, standin' there just as real as _you_ are sittin' in front of me right now."

Hogan shook his head slightly, "You know that's impossible, don't you? The man's dead. And you're the one who pumped him full of bullets, remember?"

"I know, sir, but I'm tellin' you, it was 'im!" Newkirk was adamant.

Hogan's face now radiated frustration. "Do you hear yourself, Newkirk? You know he's dead, but you're sure you saw him…"

"Don't you think I know it makes no bloody sense, Colonel?" Newkirk exclaimed in exasperation, "I can't explain it, but it was 'im, I know it!"

"You know what I think?" Hogan was becoming exasperated himself, "I think you haven't been getting enough sleep, and you're starting to hallucinate; that's what I think!"

"I got enough sleep last night, sir," Newkirk stated quietly.

Hogan stared at him for a moment, and then sighed again. "Maybe you did, Newkirk, but maybe it wasn't enough to make up for all the nights you didn't," he said, then glanced down at his watch, and back up at his corporal. "And speaking of sleep, it's late, and I think we could both use some. We'll talk about this in the morning."

Newkirk opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then thought better of it. "Yes, sir," he replied, and then stood up and walked out of Hogan's quarters. He quickly changed into his nightclothes and hopped up to his bunk, where he stretched out, pulling his blanket up around him, and willed himself to go to sleep. But his brain kept him awake for a while as he tried desperately to figure out not only why he had seen Steiger again, but whether the major had been there in the flesh, or he had just imagined him. And if he was imagining him, which seemed likely, then that could mean only one thing. _Blimey, I must be goin' crackers!_

* * * * * *

"_Newkirk, open your eyes, I have a present for you…"_

_He fought it as long as he could, but the voice was persistent. At last he opened his eyes and saw Hogan on the table; only the colonel wasn't dead this time, he was very much alive, and looking at him with a pleading expression._

"_Newkirk, don't let Steiger kill me…please, Newkirk! Make him stop!"_

_Steiger laughed maliciously, and raised his scalpel over Hogan's body._

"_No!" Newkirk yelled out, tugging against the chains that were holding his arms, "Let 'im go! Don't..."_

_Steiger walked up to the English corporal and leaned his face in close to Newkirk's. "What will you do if I don't?" He asked sweetly, his eyes boring into him._

"_Whatever you want, Major, just please, don't hurt the colonel," Newkirk answered, his body breaking out in a cold sweat. _

"_Would you take his place?" Steiger leaned in closer to Newkirk's face until there were mere inches between them._

_Newkirk's eyes widened in terror, "Take his place?" He echoed fearfully._

"_Yes, Newkirk, would you take his place…let him watch while I play my game with you?"_

_Newkirk glanced back and forth between Hogan and Steiger, a horrible knot forming in the pit of his stomach. At last he blurted out, "Yes, I'll take his place… please, please, don't hurt 'im, I'll take his place…"_

_Steiger smiled, and moved back to the table occupied by Hogan. "That's all I wanted to know," he replied, and brought his scalpel down on the colonel._

"Noooo!" Newkirk yelled and sat up on his bunk, receiving instant attention from Carter, who scrambled out of his bunk to see what was wrong with his English friend.

"Newkirk, are you all right?" Carter exclaimed as he caught sight of his terrified face, and noticed his rapid breathing.

Newkirk sat there for a few moments, fighting to regain control, and at last turned to look at Carter. "I'm all right, Andrew," he replied, "Just a bad dream. Nothin' to worry about. Go back to sleep."

"It didn't sound like nothing to me, Newkirk," Carter insisted.

"Well, it was, Carter," Newkirk shot back, sounding annoyed. "Now, why don't you lie down on your bunk and go to sleep, and let me do the same?"

"Okay," Carter sounded disappointed, but he complied, and crawled back into his bunk; wishing, not for the first time, that Newkirk would let him help.

Newkirk lay back down and stared at the ceiling, knowing that he'd never get back to sleep now. He sighed as a thought popped into his brain, and he knew he couldn't ignore it any longer; _if these ruddy nightmares don't stop, I don't know 'ow I'm goin' to be able to keep doin' my job._


	4. Another sighting

Hogan didn't get much sleep himself that night. He knew he had a problem on his hands; a big one. This was the second time Newkirk had seen Steiger, the second time he'd been convinced that the major was physically there, and the second time he'd had to drag the corporal out of the building before he brought unnecessary attention upon them. There was no more doubting it, was there? Newkirk was getting worse. And that realization left him with a difficult decision to make; should he try to get Newkirk some help, or would it be better to send the Englishman back to London, where he could be cared for properly? Frankly, he hated the second option; not only would he be losing a man with irreplaceable skills, he would be losing a team member…and a friend. But if he contacted London and requested them to send in a psychiatrist, they were bound to order Newkirk home, anyway.

So, what was the solution? How could he fix Newkirk so the corporal could stay? As he lay on his bunk lost in thought, staring at the ceiling, he reached up and slid his hands behind his head. _There's got to be something, something that will help him stop seeing Steiger…_ Suddenly an idea formed in his brain, and a small smile appeared on his face. It wasn't much, but it was a place to start. He closed his eyes at last, reminding himself before he drifted off to sleep to talk to Kinch in the morning.

The next day started like all the others; Schultz barging into the barracks, the men scrambling to get outside for roll call, the cold morning air blasting them as they left the warmth of the building. As Hogan walked out of his quarters to join the exiting mass, he took one look at Newkirk, and could tell the corporal hadn't gotten much sleep…again. His eyes were red and puffy, and he appeared to be moving rather slowly. As much as he disliked the idea, he decided he'd better have Wilson give him another pill to help him sleep tonight.

Newkirk felt terrible. He'd gotten maybe three hours of sleep, and his brain felt like it was short-circuiting. A thought would randomly pop up, and then disappear as another would float by, forgotten before it even materialized. His head was throbbing, his neck was stiff, and he had a knot in his gut that was no doubt being caused by the high level of anxiety that seemed to have permanently taken him over. He wanted so badly to climb back into his bunk, close his eyes, and sleep for the next two days. But then an image from his latest nightmare surfaced, and suddenly he never wanted to sleep again.

Newkirk managed to make it through roll call, and when they re-entered the barracks, he headed straight for the stove, grabbed the coffee pot, poured himself a cup, and sat down at the table.

Carter sat down next to him, and looked at him with concern. "Newkirk?" He asked tentatively, "How are you feeling today, buddy?"

Newkirk took a sip of his coffee and, still staring at the cup in his hands, replied, "Just fine, Louis."

"Um, I'm Carter," the sergeant corrected him, looking thoroughly confused.

Newkirk turned his head slowly to look at his friend. "Why, yes you are, Carter; good for you," he said, and then went back to staring at his coffee cup.

Carter shot a bewildered look at LeBeau, who was puttering around the stove. The Frenchman looked back, his face mirroring the sergeant's confusion, and shrugged his shoulders. Carter then glanced around the barracks. "Where's the Colonel?" he asked loudly.

"He went down in the tunnel with Kinch," LeBeau answered him. "He said he had to talk to him about something."

"Oh," Carter responded, suddenly wishing they would hurry back.

* * * * *

"Kinch," Hogan said once they got down below to the area where the radio was located, "I want you to contact the Underground and see if they can find out what the Krauts did with Steiger's body after the fire."

Kinch looked at him questioningly. "You want me to…what, Colonel?"

"You heard me. Contact the Underground, and tell them to find out where they buried Steiger's body. Maybe that'll help Newkirk get over these hallucinations he's been having."

Kinch nodded slightly, understanding now. "So, you think if Newkirk knows where Steiger's buried, he'll stop thinking he sees him out in town."

"That's what I'm hoping, Kinch."

"And if that doesn't work?"

A grim smile appeared on Hogan's face. "Then I'll take him there and show him the body myself, if I have to!"

* * * * *

Newkirk once again found himself struggling to get through the day. He could tell everyone was worried about him, but at this point he didn't care. Hogan never brought up their conversation from the previous night, but the colonel did offer to let him catch a nap in his quarters, which he respectfully declined. However, Hogan also informed him that he'd have Wilson give him another pill to help him sleep through the night again, and that eased his mind a great deal.

Hogan, meanwhile, had been keeping his eye on the Englishman all day, particularly after Carter had mentioned the brief conversation he'd had with him that morning. He wasn't too surprised that Newkirk didn't take him up on his offer to grab a nap, but he did see the relief in the corporal's eyes when he mentioned letting him have a sleeping pill before bedtime. As the afternoon wore on, he noticed Newkirk fading; periodically starting to nod off, then snapping awake again, looking more and more exhausted, and his worry grew. If they didn't still need to get through the evening roll call, he would have had him sedated and put to bed right then. But, unfortunately, Newkirk would have to wait until they were done lining up for the day. Then, not only would the corporal go to bed and get some sleep, with a little help from Wilson, but he also decided he was going to use him as little as possible for a while, to try to give him time to recover.

Toward evening, Hogan was sitting at his desk in his quarters, looking over some papers, when there was a knock on the door. He called out, "Come in," and looked up expectantly when he saw Kinch enter. "Any word, Kinch?" He asked, once the sergeant had shut the door.

"Yes, sir," Kinch answered, "I heard from the Underground, and they said they'll check into that matter with Steiger and get back to us."

Hogan nodded. "Good. I just hope they don't take too long." He noted from the sergeant's expression that he had more to say. "Anything else, Kinch?" he added, prompting him to continue.

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied, now looking uncomfortable, "They have a job for us tomorrow night…" He hesitated, knowing how Hogan was going to react.

"Well, what is it?" Hogan asked impatiently.

Kinch swallowed hard. "It's at the Heidelberg Hotel, Colonel…"

Hogan's eyes widened as he comprehended what Kinch was telling him. "Don't tell me…the room safe again?"

"Yes, sir, the room safe, again."

Hogan now looked angry. "Dammit, Kinch, why does every mission lately involve Newkirk?"

Kinch shook his head. "I don't know, sir."

Hogan let out a huge sigh. "Well, at least he'll get some sleep tonight. I'm gonna let Wilson give him a sleeping pill." He reached up and rubbed his temple, "You know, Kinch, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear someone's doing this on purpose." Then he dropped his hand and looked back at the sergeant. "But that's not possible, is it?"

"I don't see how, Colonel…or why."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's all a coincidence. Thanks, Kinch. I'll tell Newkirk the bad news myself."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied, and left Hogan's quarters.

* * * * * *

That night, Wilson stopped by just after their final roll call, and gave Newkirk another pill. Newkirk climbed up to his bunk, and was instantly out. Hogan, who had been watching nearby, was relieved; after he'd informed the corporal of the mission scheduled for the next night, Newkirk had just nodded at him with an apathetic look in his eyes. The man was so tired, that he didn't think Newkirk would even remember what he'd told him come morning.

The next day brought a much more rested English corporal. Newkirk woke up feeling much better than he had the day before, after getting a whopping eight hours of sleep. He still felt drowsy and he had a slight headache, but his mind was a little clearer, and his anxiety level had dropped to a more normal level. And best of all, he'd had no nightmare; at least, none that he could remember.

Hogan noticed right away, and breathed a sigh of relief, although there was some concern mixed in. He didn't want Newkirk to start growing dependant on the pills that were helping him sleep. He also didn't like the fact that he had to use him on a job that night, but it couldn't be helped; the corporal was the only one who could open the safe. And, sure enough, when he'd mentioned the mission after morning roll call, Newkirk had no memory of Hogan telling him the night before.

The day passed quickly, and soon it was time for Hogan and Newkirk to prepare for their mission. Once again they dressed in civilian clothes and headed out of camp. Newkirk seemed more nervous than usual, and Hogan suspected it was because the corporal was afraid he might see Steiger again. All Hogan could do at that point was hope it didn't happen.

When they got to the hotel, they walked up to the desk, and Hogan asked for room 109 this time; the Underground had used a different one to avert suspicion. The same girl was behind the desk, and immediately began flirting with him. Newkirk turned away, inwardly smirking, and leaned against the desk, his eyes casually scanning the lobby.

Just then he noticed a man across the room, his back leaning against the opposite wall. He had his face down, like he was looking at something on the floor in front of him, and his hands were in front of his body, apparently resting against his stomach, his left hand covering his right. The man raised his head, looked straight at him, and smiled; it was Major Steiger…again!

Newkirk froze, staring back, and watched in terror as Steiger removed his left hand, revealing the right one that was holding a thin, shiny object. The major held it up in front of him, and as it caught the light, Newkirk could see it was a scalpel. He sucked in his breath, drawing attention from both Hogan and the girl who was flirting with him. As he forced himself to turn his head in their direction, he first noticed Hogan's scowl, and then the girl's look of concern. With supreme effort, he managed to regain control of his faculties, and, glancing down at the floor, suddenly stamped his foot on the ground, exclaiming, "There, I think I got him! Sorry, I just saw a large spider crawling across the floor. I'm terribly afraid of them, you know."

Hogan glared at him for a moment, then looked back at the girl, who was staring at Newkirk with concern. "It's okay," he reassured her, "He's had that problem all his life. When we were kids, we were playing outside, and he fell in a hole and got covered with spiders. Never got over it, I'm afraid."

"Oh, how frightening!" The girl answered, her attention starting to shift to Newkirk.

"Yes, well, I better get him to the room so he can calm down," Hogan said and, picking up the key, smiled at the girl, then grabbed Newkirk's arm and led him down the hall.

Newkirk couldn't help it; he glanced behind him as Hogan pulled him away, toward the spot where Steiger had been standing, and saw that the SS Major was gone.

After they entered the room, Hogan shut the door and whirled around to face Newkirk. "What was that all about?" He practically shouted at the corporal.

"Nothin, Colonel…a spider, that's all," Newkirk answered, not wanting to tell Hogan the truth; knowing he wouldn't believe him, anyway.

Hogan stared at him, and knew he was lying. He'd noticed that Newkirk was breathing a little faster than normal, and the fear in his eyes was obvious; at least to him; no matter how Newkirk tried to mask it. He took a few deep breaths and then asked more calmly, "Newkirk, what's wrong?"

"Nothin', sir, not a bloomin' thing," Newkirk replied, unconvincingly.

"You saw Steiger again, didn't you?" Hogan guessed.

Something flickered across Newkirk's eyes, and then was gone. "No, sir, I didn't see anythin' of the sort."

Hogan's frustration was growing "Don't lie to me, Newkirk! I can tell you did!"

Newkirk looked at him with a pained expression. At last he sighed and said, "Yes, sir, I saw 'im, and this time 'e was holdin' a scalpel and grinnin' at me...is that what you wanted to 'ear?"

"I want to hear the truth, Newkirk," Hogan stated.

"Well, then, that's the truth, gov'nor," Newkirk replied dejectedly, "Not that I expect you to believe me."

Hogan walked over and sat down on one of the twin beds. He motioned for Newkirk to take a seat on the bed across from him. The corporal complied, and Hogan said to him, "Look, Newkirk, I believe that _you_ believe you saw Steiger. Now, I don't know what's causing it, but maybe it has something to do with the nightmares you've been having. In any case, I'm going to do whatever I can to help you get through this, okay?"

Newkirk looked into Hogan's eyes, and could see the sincerity that was emanating from them. "I know, Colonel, and I'm grateful…you 'ave no idea 'ow much I want all this to stop!"

Hogan nodded. "Me, too!" He replied, a lopsided grin forming on his face.

Newkirk smiled back, a rush of admiration coursing through him as he stared at his C. O., wondering for the umpteenth time how he got so lucky to end up under his command.

"But, you've got to be honest with me, okay?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Yes, sir," it was Newkirk's turn to nod. "I'll never try to put one past you again, gov'nor, I promise!"

"I believe you," Hogan responded, and then stood up and gestured towards the safe in the corner. "Now, why don't we do what we came here to do?"

"Right, gov'nor!" Newkirk jumped up and went over to the safe, and had it open in no time. Hogan reached in and pulled out the envelope it contained, checked the papers inside, and, satisfied, pushed them back in and slipped the envelope under his jacket, just like before. Then he and Newkirk left the room, and after exiting the hotel, headed back to camp.

When they arrived at Stalag 13, and climbed down into the tunnel, Kinch was waiting for them in his usual spot. "Welcome back," he called out when he saw them enter, "Everything go all right, Colonel?"

Hogan glanced at Newkirk, who had already gone over to change back into his uniform. Then he looked back at Kinch. "Everything went just fine," he replied, pulling the envelope out from under his jacket.

"Sir, if you don't need me, I'd like to 'ead off to bed," Newkirk requested as he finished pulling on his uniform jacket.

"Sure, go ahead, Newkirk," Hogan answered.

Newkirk walked over to the ladder and climbed up to the barracks. When he got there, instead of heading for his bunk, he tiptoed quietly to the door. After a quick glance around the room to make sure he wasn't being watched, he opened the door a crack, and slipped out into the compound. He snuck along the outside of the building, knowing when to dodge the searchlights, and made his way to Barracks four, where Wilson slept.

Once there, he slipped inside, and crept noiselessly over to the medic's bunk. He leaned over the lower bunk, reached down, and gently shook Wilson's shoulder. "Wilson," he whispered, "I need to talk to you."

Wilson opened his eyes and looked up at the corporal, blinking in confusion. "Newkirk, what are you doing here?" He whispered back, "Is someone hurt?"

"No, everyone's fine. I just came to get another sleepin' pill from you."

Wilson sat up and eyed him suspiciously. "Does the colonel know you're here?" He asked.

"Of course 'e does," Newkirk lied, ""I wouldn't be 'ere without 'is permission, now, would I?"

Wilson studied him for a moment, and then nodded. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. All right, I'll give you another pill, but I can't let you take these for long; make sure you tell Colonel Hogan that."

"Oh, I will," Newkirk answered, "You can bet on it!"

Wilson got up and went to his footlocker, where he kept his supply of Sodium Amytal (1), and took out one pill, which he handed to Newkirk. "Make sure you lie down right after you take this," he told him. "Normally it takes about a half-hour, more or less, to take effect, but as tired as you've been, you'll probably fall asleep right away, just like the last two times."

"Right," Newkirk said, and, just before he turned to go, smiled at him and added, "Thanks, Wilson."

"You're welcome," Wilson whispered, smiling back, then closed his footlocker and went back to his bunk.

Newkirk left Barracks four, and headed back to his own barracks, once again expertly ducking the searchlights. As he snuck inside, he glanced furtively around the room, hoping no one was awake and watching him enter. Fortunately, everyone appeared to be sound asleep. He also surmised that Kinch and Hogan were still below in the tunnel, judging by Kinch's empty bed and Hogan's darkened quarters, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He quickly changed into his nightclothes, popped the pill into his mouth, swallowed it, and then climbed up to his bunk and stretched out.

Even though he was indeed tired, it took him a little longer to fall asleep this time; his guilt at what he'd just done was nagging at him. He promised himself he wouldn't do it again, and he could only hope that Hogan never found out; especially after their earlier conversation at the hotel. As he drifted off to sleep, a tiny warning bell went off in the back of his mind, an alarm telling him that he was heading down a dangerous path, but he blissfully ignored it.

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(1) Amobarbital, also known as Sodium Amytal, is a barbiturate that is used for, among other things, severe insomnia. According to my research, it was given in pill form to soldiers during the Battle of the Bulge. I am going on the assumption that Wilson would have some on hand; especially since they can get medications dropped to them. I am also attempting to keep its effects as accurate as possible from the information I was able to obtain. And if I'm incorrect, feel free to PM me; otherwise, chalk it up to 'fictional liberty', if there is such a thing!


	5. Mystery and deception

As Newkirk was sneaking off to Barracks four, Hogan and Kinch were having a conversation down in the tunnel.

"Newkirk saw Steiger again," Hogan stated, once the corporal had left, "Right there in the lobby of the hotel."

Kinch didn't look too surprised. "What did you do, Colonel?" He asked.

"I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the room…what else could I do?" Hogan shook his head and sighed, "Kinch, there's got to be some way of getting Newkirk to stop seeing Steiger everywhere we go."

"Speaking of that, sir, I heard from the Underground regarding the request you made, and the information they gave me was, well, strange, to say the least."

"What do you mean, strange?"

Kinch cleared his throat, and continued, "Apparently Steiger's body was never actually buried, because there was nothing left of it after the facility burned down. That was the official report, anyway."

Hogan frowned, "What's so strange about that?"

"Well, Colonel, the agent I talked to; he knows one of the guys who had to help clear out what was left of the building, and according to him, they found a huge stack of Russian uniforms; most of which were barely singed."

Hogan's brow furrowed deeper as he mulled over that bit of information. "You know, Kinch, the room that had the uniforms in it; it was one of the last rooms Newkirk checked before we left the basement…and it wasn't very far from the room Steiger was in."

"Yes, sir, Newkirk mentioned it when he told me what happened that night," Kinch recalled.

"So, if the uniforms were hardly touched by the fire, then Steiger's body shouldn't have been that badly burned, either."

"That's what I was thinking."

Hogan looked at Kinch in utter confusion. "Then why would they say he completely burned up in the fire?"

Kinch shrugged his shoulders, sharing Hogan's bewilderment. "That's what makes it so strange, Colonel."

Hogan began to pace back and forth in front of the radio desk. "Very strange, Kinch," he replied absently. "There's something not right about this whole thing…" His voice trailed off as he tried to make sense of it; wondering why on Earth they would claim that Steiger's body had been destroyed in the fire, when, most likely, it hadn't been.

Kinch just watched Hogan pace, not wanting to interrupt; knowing from experience that that's how the Colonel did his best thinking.

No answers seemed to be forthcoming; though, and at last, tired and frustrated, Hogan stopped pacing and said, "Well, whatever they're up to, I'm not going to figure it out tonight. I think we both need to get some sleep, and see what we can find out tomorrow. Kinch, I want you to contact the Underground in the morning; and ask them to do some more digging; see if they can find out what really happened to Steiger's body."

"Yes, sir," Kinch answered.

"In the meantime, let's get some shut-eye, shall we?" He waved his hand toward the ladder, motioning for Kinch to go first.

Hogan and Kinch climbed up to the barracks, and stepped quietly through the room of sleeping men. As Hogan made his way to his quarters, he spared a glance in Newkirk's direction, and saw that the corporal was sound asleep. He mentally breathed a sigh of relief, and found himself wishing fervently for Newkirk to make it through the night this time without being interrupted by his nightmare, and without the aid of a sleeping pill. Maybe if his sleep returned to normal, he'd stop seeing Steiger every time they went out on a mission.

* * * * * *

"Hey, Newkirk, time to get up…Schultz'll be here any minute," Carter said to the sleeping Englishman. He reached over and gave his shoulder a shake.

Newkirk groaned and opened one eye. "Mornin' already, Andrew?" he managed to utter.

Carter grinned. "Yep. Hey, you slept all night, didn't you? You must have, because I didn't hear you wake up in the middle of the night; so that must mean you didn't have another nightmare, right? I hope not, boy, because you sure sound scared when you wake up from those! And then you look so tired, like you're gonna fall asleep on your feet…"

"Ease up, mate," Newkirk interrupted, blinking at him. "Give me a chance to wake up, will you?"

"Oh, sorry," Carter backed off, looking properly chastised, "I just got so excited to see that you slept all night…I'll let you wake up, now."

"Thanks, Carter," Newkirk replied. He sat up on his bunk, and noticed that he felt a little drowsier this time; and a bit dizzy. He also had a slight headache, but it was nowhere near as bad as when he was hardly getting any sleep. He still felt guilty for deceiving Wilson, and Hogan, but he decided it was necessary; after all, how was he supposed to do his job if he was always on the verge of falling asleep?

As he jumped off his bunk onto the floor, the dizziness briefly intensified, and he stood there for a moment to steady himself. Then he began to change into his uniform.

Schultz arrived in short order, and herded all the men outside to line up for morning roll call. As Hogan took his place, he glanced at Newkirk, and could see he looked sleepy. At first he wondered if the corporal had had another nightmare, but his color looked okay, and he didn't seem confused or disoriented. Maybe it was from getting more than enough sleep; he knew sometimes that could leave a person feeling just as drowsy as when they weren't sleeping enough. He hoped that was the case; it might mean Newkirk's sleep was getting back to normal.

After roll call everyone filed back into the barracks, and Hogan and his men started their usual morning routine; LeBeau making breakfast while the rest of them sat down at the table. Hogan poured the coffee this time, and after taking his seat, smiled at Newkirk, who was sitting across from him.

"You're looking more rested today, Newkirk," Hogan stated. "I take it you didn't have any trouble sleeping last night?"

Newkirk, whose drowsiness had dissipated after standing outside in the cold for an hour, smiled back. "Not a bit, Colonel. I slept like a…what is it you Yanks say?" He thought for a moment, and then his face lit up. "Oh, right…slept like a rock!"

Everyone chuckled at that, and then the conversation moved on to the business of the day; who did they have going out tonight to meet up with the sub that could take the papers they retrieved last night? How were they fixed for supplies? What condition were their civilian clothes and German uniforms in; did they need repair? How many men would be needed to shore up one of the walls of the tunnel underneath the cooler that had been showing signs of crumbling? After they finished up with the more pressing items, and breakfast, they all headed off to take care of whatever task they'd been assigned. Kinch, of course, went down into the tunnel to contact the Underground, once again asking them for information regarding Steiger's body.

The day passed fairly quickly, being busy helped, and soon enough it was already time for lights out. Kinch hadn't heard anything more from the Underground, and Hogan told him to get some sleep, and check back with them in the morning. They all settled in to their respective bunks, and soon only snores could be heard reverberating throughout the barracks.

Newkirk lay there, listening to the sounds of men sleeping all around him, but couldn't seem to get himself to join in. He stared at the ceiling in frustration, wide awake, yet extremely tired at the same time. He closed his eyes and literally tried to force himself to go to sleep, but all he accomplished was to raise his anxiety level even further. _Oh, bugger! What do I 'ave to do to get some ruddy sleep around 'ere? _

And then an idea popped up in his brain, and he jumped quietly down from his bunk and changed into his uniform before his conscience could talk him out of it. He glanced around to make sure no one was awake, and slipped out of the barracks, like he had the night before. Once again he moved stealthily through the compound to Barracks four, and slipped inside. He stood still for a moment, listening, searching the large room with his eyes, and when he was sure all the men were asleep, crept silently over to Wilson's footlocker. Then he crouched down and, in a matter of moments, had it unlocked. As he raised the lid, he noticed that there was just enough light coming in through the windows that he could see the contents inside. He reached in and grabbed the bottle that Wilson had pulled out last night, and sure enough, when he got it open, found that it contained more sleeping pills.

Suddenly he froze as he heard a voice speak up somewhere behind him. It was low, and he couldn't make out what the owner of the voice had said, so he dared to turn his head and scan the darkness, searching for the man who had spoken. He heard it again; a quiet mumbling, and as his eyes lighted on Nanowski's bunk, he realized that the private was talking in his sleep. He let out the breath that he didn't realize he was holding, and turned back to the task at hand. Without any more hesitation, he dumped out a handful of the sleeping pills and dropped them into his pocket. Then he closed the bottle and replaced it, shut the footlocker, locked it back up, and then slipped like a shadow to the barrack's door and out into the compound; gone before anyone was the wiser.

When he returned to Barracks two, he crept silently through the door and, seeing that no one had stirred, quickly changed back to his nightclothes. He hopped up onto his bunk and pulled out a small box that he kept on the shelf that was attached to the wall. After dropping the pills into the box; all but one, he put the box back, reminding himself to move it to his footlocker in the morning. Then he looked at the pill that he still held in his hand, popped it into his mouth, and once he swallowed it, lay down and waited to fall asleep.

* * * * * *

When morning arrived, Newkirk woke up feeling groggy and a little dizzy; his head ached, but not terribly, and his stomach was a bit queasy. But, like yesterday, by the time roll call had ended, he was feeling more or less back to normal. His thoughts were being sluggish, but he knew that would clear up as well, as the day progressed. And he was right; by lunchtime he felt fine.

That afternoon, when the guys were all outside playing a rousing game of football, he retrieved the box that he'd deposited the pills in, and locked it up in his footlocker. He hadn't really thought about what he was going to do when they were gone, but at that point he didn't care. As long as he had some for the next several nights, he was satisfied.

* * * * * *

It was nearing evening when Hogan heard a knock on his door. After expressing his permission to enter, Kinch came in and shut the door behind him.

"I heard from the Underground, Colonel," Kinch stated.

"Is this about Steiger?" Hogan asked as he looked up from his desk.

"Yes, sir. They said that they still don't know what happened to the major's body, but they did find out that two of the guards were also reported killed in the fire, and apparently their bodies were burned up as well."

"I thought we got all the guards out of there," Hogan muttered, a puzzled look on his face. "Kinch, this is becoming curiouser and curiouser…" his voice trailed off.

"Yeah, except this isn't 'Wonderland', Colonel," Kinch replied, a small grin forming on his face. (1)

Hogan smirked, and then grew serious, "No, it isn't. I'm beginning to get a bad feeling about this whole thing, Kinch. They're hiding something; why? What are they up to? And what does this have to do with Steiger's death?" He shook his head, then looked at the sergeant determinedly. "Kinch, tell the Underground to keep looking into it; if they find out anything else, I want to know right away."

"Yes, sir," Kinch dutifully replied.

"Oh, and Kinch?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't tell any of the other guys about this yet; especially Newkirk."

Kinch nodded in understanding. "Mum's the word, Colonel."

* * * * * *

Soon enough it was almost time for lights out, and the men were all tired from the work they had accomplished during the day, not to mention the impromptu football game that had sprung up in the afternoon. As they were getting ready for bed, Newkirk snuck a pill from his footlocker and popped it into his mouth when no one was looking. He climbed up to his bunk, and by the time the lights were turned off, he was asleep.

"_Well, well, what has my English corporal been up to, hmm?" Steiger asked, standing in front of Newkirk and staring at him with bemusement._

_Newkirk tugged on the chains that bound his wrists, already knowing they wouldn't budge. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Major," he answered nervously._

"_It seems you've found a new hobby," Steiger smiled and gave him a wink, "But don't worry, I approve."_

"_I'm not doin' anythin' wrong," Newkirk stated defiantly, although his voice trembled just a bit._

"_No, of course not, Corporal," Steiger replied in a soothing voice, then he turned and walked over to the table behind him where Hogan lay, his arms and legs strapped down tightly. "I wonder what your Colonel has to say about it, though."_

"_Newkirk," Hogan uttered weakly, "Newkirk, you promised you wouldn't lie to me…you promised…" _

_Newkirk could hear the hurt in Hogan's voice. "Colonel, I 'aven't lied to you, I…I just needed somethin' to 'elp me sleep…you understand…please, Colonel, say you understand!" He pleaded._

_Steiger smiled wide. "Tsk, tsk, my dear corporal, surely you must realize how the mistakes you make affect those around you. I'm afraid your Colonel here will have to suffer for them." He brought out his scalpel and held it out in front of him._

"_No, please," Newkirk was begging by now, "Please, let 'im go, it's my fault… punish me, don't hurt the Colonel, please, please!"_

"_You still don't understand, do you, Newkirk?" Steiger replied patiently, as if he was addressing a child, "I __**am**__ punishing you." Then he raised his hand and brought it down on Hogan._

_Newkirk cried out as he saw what Steiger was doing, but was drowned out by Hogan's screams. He broke out in a sweat, his heart pounding in his chest, and he started to hyperventilate, all the while trying to shut his eyes, but they wouldn't close. He started feeling woozy and nauseated, brought on by the horrific scene unfolding before him. And through it all, Steiger was laughing; that terrible, maniacal laughter that could only come from one of the devil's own. _

_Suddenly Newkirk noticed a new sound echoing throughout the room, and as he turned his attention toward it, realized it was screaming…and it was coming from him… _

"Newkirk, wake up! Newkirk!" Carter was shaking his shoulder vigorously, "C'mon, buddy, wake up! You're having a nightmare!"

Newkirk's eyes flew open, and he looked at Carter, terrified. "Steiger…he's got the Colonel, and he's…he's killin' 'im!"

"No, no, it's okay," Carter tried to reassure him, "No one's got the Colonel, he's fine, he's sleeping in his quarters. You were just having a bad dream, Newkirk. Really, the Colonel's fine."

Just then the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and the man in question came striding over to them. "What's going on?" He whispered quietly, looking first at Carter, and then up at Newkirk with concern, "I could hear screaming coming from out here."

Newkirk reached out and grabbed Hogan's arm. "Colonel, I'm sorry, I'm…" he stopped as he suddenly realized what he'd been about to say.

"Hey, it's all right, Newkirk," Hogan responded in a soothing tone, "I figured you were having another nightmare. No need to apologize; I know you can't help it."

Newkirk stared at Hogan, his guilt threatening to overwhelm him. But he pushed it back down and, after releasing the hold on his arm, swallowed hard and replied, "Thanks, Colonel, I just 'ate to be wakin' everyone up in the middle of the night…"

"It's okay, Newkirk, really," Hogan cut in, "We'll get over it." He flashed him a smile, and then his concern reappeared. "I was hoping the dreams had stopped, though. You haven't had any for the past several nights, have you?"

"No, sir, this was the first one in…" Newkirk's voice trailed off as he tried to think. _'Ow long 'ad it been?_

"Three nights," Carter piped up

Newkirk glanced at Carter, and then looked back at Hogan. "Yes, that's right, sir; three nights."

Hogan's brow furrowed as he contemplated that bit of information. "I wonder what triggered this one, then," he murmured, more to himself. Then, a bit louder, "Maybe I should have Wilson check you over…"

"No!" Newkirk exclaimed, and hastily added, "I mean, you don't need to bother Wilson, I'm feelin' fine, honest I am, gov'nor."

Hogan stared at him, searching his eyes for a moment. Something seemed…off, but he couldn't quite place it. At last he said, "All right, Newkirk, you win…for now. But if you start having nightmares again, and losing sleep…"

Newkirk inwardly sighed with relief. "You'll be the first one to know, Colonel, I promise."

"That's all I ask," Hogan replied, and then looked at his watch. "In the meantime, gentlemen, it's four O'clock in the morning. What do you say we try to get a little more sleep before roll call?"

"Yes, sir," Both Newkirk and Carter replied.

Hogan nodded at them and went back to his quarters, intending to get at least an hour or so more sleep. Carter crawled into his bunk, and after making himself as comfortable as possible, fell asleep almost immediately.

Newkirk lay there, staring up at the ceiling, riddled with thoughts that, he knew from experience, would never let him get back to sleep. Why did he have a nightmare? The pills were supposed to stop that; they had been doing a good job of it up to now. And why was he awake, anyway? He should have stayed asleep until morning. Well, at least he'd gotten almost six hours of sleep, although he still felt very tired, and his stomach was a little upset. He wondered if he should talk to Wilson in the morning; if he did, he'd have to find a way to bring it up without throwing suspicion onto himself. Of course, maybe he just needed to take a little more of the medicine that had been helping him sleep. Maybe if he cut one of the pills up, and took a little extra along with a whole pill next time… _Cor! What am I thinkin'? I can't start messin' with this stuff like that; I don't know what I'm bloody doin'! _But he filed the idea away in his subconscious, and, despite his thoughts to the contrary, went back to sleep.

* * *

(1) That was a reference to _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_, by Lewis Carroll.


	6. One more mission, one more sighting

The next morning Newkirk wasn't feeling quite as dizzy, but he did have a slight headache, and the tiredness was back; the way he'd felt when he wasn't getting enough sleep. It was nowhere near as severe as before, but it was noticeable. He thought briefly about tracking Wilson down later to see if he could find out a little more about the medicine he was taking, but no matter how he played out their conversation in his head, he couldn't think of a way to discuss it without making the medic suspicious. He also found himself once again contemplating taking a little extra medicine with his pill that night, but quickly dismissed it. He'd better just stick to the one pill for now, and see how it went.

Hogan was still concerned that Newkirk had had another nightmare; especially after getting a good night's sleep the three previous nights. He racked his brain, trying to think of anything that could have set him off, but things had been pretty quiet lately. Well, maybe it was a fluke; with any luck, Newkirk would sleep fine tonight, and soon this would all be just a bad memory. Still, he decided he'd have a little talk with Wilson later.

It was midmorning when Kinch knocked on Hogan's door, and after entering, settled on the bench next to his desk to fill him in on the latest communiqué he'd received from London.

"They have a mission for us tonight, Colonel," Kinch stated after he took his seat.

"What is it, Kinch?"

"There's a party going on at the hotel in Hammelburg this evening, in honor of a Luftwaffe general; General Berger. Klink's been invited, and they want us to find a way to tag along so we can get a look at what the general's carrying with him."

"What's he got?" Hogan asked.

"Well, the general is supposed to have some top secret papers with him, which he'll probably keep in his room while the party's going on. We'll need someone to slip in there and take pictures of them; they'll be in a locked briefcase inside the room."

Hogan frowned. "Another mission involving Newkirk," he murmured as he got up and started to pace back and forth in his office. "Kinch, where did London get the information about what this general was carrying?"

"From the Underground, Colonel."

"That's what I thought," Hogan said as he rounded the corner, "There's something fishy going on here, I can feel it." Then he stopped and looked at the sergeant. "Kinch, I want you to contact the Underground, and ask them who's been setting up all the missions we've been sent on lately."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied.

"And tell them to keep trying to find out what happened to Steiger's body."

Kinch raised his eyebrow. "You think they're related, Colonel?"

"I don't know," Hogan crossed his arms and let out a sigh, "But I'm beginning to believe it's not just a coincidence."

Kinch nodded in agreement. "What about the mission tonight, sir?" He asked.

Hogan thought briefly. "Well, I bet I can get Klink to use us as 'extra help'. Newkirk will have to come, obviously, so he can get into the general's room and open the briefcase. I'm sure we can keep everyone busy while he's in there."

"Oh, you know us, Colonel," Kinch replied with a smirk, "We're experts at keeping the Krauts entertained."

Hogan smiled. "I knew there was a reason I kept you guys around," he said, chuckling. "All right, I'll go work my magic on Klink."

"That's why we keep _you_ around, Colonel," Kinch remarked, smiling wide.

Hogan tried to frown at him, but ended up laughing instead. "Well, at least I know where I stand!"

"So do _we_, sir." Kinch chuckled.

Hogan laughed some more at that, and then settled into a grin. "Okay, Kinch, go tell the guys to get out their waiters' uniforms. Oh, and do me a favor, tell Wilson I want to talk to him in my quarters when I get back."

"Will do, Colonel," Kinch replied, and left.

Hogan followed him out, and went over to Klink's office. He knocked on the door and then, in typical fashion, opened it and barged in without waiting for an acknowledgment from Klink. The Kommandant was hunched over a pile of paperwork that was spread out over his desk, and looked up irritably as Hogan entered.

"Hogan, what are you doing here? Can't you see I'm busy?" Klink asked, scowling at him.

"I just came to tell you that I hope you have a good time at the party tonight, sir," Hogan answered, trying to sound insulted that Klink considered him an irritation.

"Party?" It took Klink a moment to understand what Hogan was talking about. "Oh, you mean the one for General Berger? Well, I hardly think I'll have a 'good time', as you put it. I'm sure it's going to be a rather stuffy and formal affair…wait a minute," Klink's expression now showed confusion, "How did you know about that, Hogan?"

"Oh, you know how rumors spread, Kommandant," Hogan said, "I also heard that they could use some extra help for it. I thought I would volunteer my men, and myself, of course."

Klink stared at him for a moment. "You, Hogan? You want to volunteer to help with the party? Why?" His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Now Colonel, do I need a reason to want to help you out?"

"Yes Hogan, you do."

"I'm insulted, Kommandant! I only wanted to make you look good; I mean, imagine how impressed General Berger's going to be when he sees your prisoners serving at the party…"

"Hogan," Klink cut in, "What do you want?"

"An extra slice of white bread a day per man, for two weeks?"

Klink looked at him. "One week."

"One and a half weeks," Hogan countered.

Klink contemplated it. "Granted," he said at last, "As long as your men do a good job…and don't try to escape!"

"Colonel, you have my word of honor…no one will try to escape," Hogan reassured him.

"Very well, Hogan," Klink gave in, "Your men can help out at the party."

"Thank you, sir!" Hogan exclaimed, "They'll be so happy to hear the news!"

Klink had already mentally returned to his paperwork. "Yes, yes, dismissed, Hogan," he called out, and buried his face in the mountain of papers on his desk, not even noticing the American colonel beating a hasty retreat.

As Hogan was walking back to the barracks, he saw Wilson also heading in the same direction. He caught up to the medic just outside the door.

"You wanted to see me, Colonel?" Wilson asked just as Hogan stepped up next to him.

"Yes, Wilson," Hogan answered while grabbing the handle and swinging open the barrack's door. "We can talk in my quarters." He stepped aside and gestured with his hand. "After you," he said, smiling at him.

Newkirk, who was sitting at the common room table doing a little touch-up sewing on one of his shirts, looked up as Wilson entered the barracks, followed by Hogan, and nearly stabbed himself with the needle. He quickly masked the surprise and fear that threatened to take over his face, and went back to staring intently at his shirt. As soon as Hogan and Wilson disappeared into the colonel's quarters, he calmly collected up his things and walked over to the false bottom bunk and, after hitting the lever to open it, climbed down to the tunnel below. He spotted Kinch at the radio, mumbled something about needing to check on their German uniforms, and took off down one of the side tunnels.

"Take a seat, Joe," Hogan said as he shut the door to his quarters. Wilson sat down on the bottom bunk, while Hogan turned his chair around to face the medic, and plopped down on it.

"I'm guessing this is about Newkirk," Wilson stated once Hogan was seated.

"You guessed right," Hogan replied.

"I heard he was sleeping better; at least, that's what the other guys have been telling me."

"He was, for about three nights, and then last night he had another nightmare." Hogan shook his head slowly. "I was beginning to believe that he was over all this, but now…"

Wilson looked at him with sympathy. He knew how seriously Hogan took his men's problems, and rightly so. Whatever affected them affected their entire operation. And he also knew that Newkirk's problem wouldn't go away overnight. "Colonel," he said quietly, "You know it's going to take time for Newkirk to get over this completely. I wish I could tell you there was some 'quick fix', but until they invent a magic pill that can wipe away all of our bad memories, he'll just have to heal in his own way; no matter how long it takes." He stopped as he considered something for a moment. "Unless you can get a psychiatrist in here…"

"I thought about that," Hogan told him, "But if I ask London to drop one in, I'm afraid they're just going to order me to send Newkirk home."

Wilson nodded slightly, "You may have to do that, anyway," he replied, knowing that wasn't what Hogan wanted to hear.

Hogan let out a huge sigh. "I know, Joe, believe me, I know. But I'd like to save that as a last resort. Isn't there anything we can do for him here? What about those sleeping pills?"

"Uh, I don't think you want to go down that road, Colonel." Wilson said, shaking his head. "Those things are only meant to be a temporary fix."

"But, they seemed to help…"

"Yes, they did. But if he keeps taking them, the medicine will begin to lose its effectiveness over time, and he'll have to take more of it to get the same effect…not to mention they're easy to become addicted to. And if he quits taking them suddenly after being on them for a long enough period of time, well, there's some serious withdrawal affects; some of which are not only dangerous, but can be fatal."

Hogan's eyes widened. "Like what?"

"Like; anxiety, irritability, tremors, elevated heart and respiration rate, dizziness, confusion, muscle pain, nausea, and seizures." (1)

Hogan let out a low whistle. "They can cause all that?" he replied.

Wilson nodded. "Not to mention his nightmares and insomnia would return, and they'd be worse than they were before he started taking the stuff."

"Well, I certainly don't want Newkirk going through all that," Hogan responded, "Yeah, we'd better lay off the pills."

"My thoughts exactly," Wilson replied, and then leaned forward a little. "Colonel, it's just going to take time."

Hogan stared at him for a moment. "I know," he said at last, "Unfortunately, that's something we don't seem to have enough of these days."

Wilson grinned. "Tell me about it!" He got up to leave, but as he approached the door, Hogan's voice stopped him.

"Oh, Wilson?" Hogan called out.

"Yes, sir?" Wilson said, turning back to look at him.

Hogan smiled. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Colonel." Then Wilson headed out of Hogan's quarters.

Shortly after Wilson left, Hogan poked his head out of his quarters and, spotting LeBeau, asked him to round up his other three men, and tell them he wanted to go over the plan for the party that evening. LeBeau headed down to the tunnel, knowing he'd find Kinch and Carter there. He wasn't sure where Newkirk had gotten off to, but he figured that one of them would know.

After he climbed down the ladder, LeBeau saw Kinch at the radio, and told him what the Colonel had said. Kinch nodded and informed him that he'd go get Carter, who was busy working on something in his lab. When the Frenchman asked about Newkirk, Kinch pointed down one of the tunnels, indicating where the Englishman had gone. LeBeau left Kinch to take care of Carter, and headed down the side tunnel to retrieve Newkirk.

LeBeau found him easily enough, fussing over the German uniforms that they kept down there. "Newkirk," he called out as he approached, "The Colonel wants to see all of us in his quarters right away."

Newkirk visibly jumped when he heard LeBeau's voice, and turned to the French corporal. "Blimey, Louis, don't scare me like that! You about gave me a 'eart attack, you did!"

"Sorry, Newkirk," LeBeau apologized, although secretly he found it amusing. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Newkirk looked at him and scowled. "I wasn't scared, you know, just a bit surprised. Anyone would be, the way you came sneakin' up on me like that…"

"Scaredy cat!" LeBeau teased, smiling wide.

Newkirk's eyes narrowed, "LeBeau, I'm warning you…"

LeBeau threw up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I just came to get you for the Colonel," then he dropped his hands and looked at Newkirk expectantly. "Well, are you coming?"

"Do I 'ave a choice?" Newkirk huffed, and then stalked off down the tunnel, LeBeau following with a grin on his face.

When they got up to the barracks, Newkirk was still worried about the conversation that Hogan and Wilson had earlier, but the fact that the colonel wasn't requesting to speak to him alone was encouraging. Maybe that meant that the medic hadn't found out what he was up to yet, because if Wilson had told Hogan anything, or had discovered the pills missing from his footlocker, he'd already be in a world of trouble. But as the men all filed into Hogan's quarters, his relief grew, and once the door was shut and the colonel began to speak, what worry still remained evaporated.

"All right, fellas," Hogan said, "You all know how these parties work; at some point the Brass is gonna be making their usual speeches, and that's when Newkirk's gonna slip out of the main room, and into the general's room so he can photograph the papers in his briefcase."

"But, Colonel," Kinch said, "Won't they have a guard outside the general's door?"

"Yes, they will. And that's why Newkirk's going to bring him a small plate of goodies from the party. Something he won't be able to resist."

It was Carter's turn to look doubtful. "Well, that sounds like a nice thing for Newkirk to do, sir, but how's that gonna help him get into the room?"

Hogan grinned. "Because he's going to add an extra ingredient to the hors d'oeuvres, just before he gives them to the guard." He held up a small vial containing their 'knockout' pills. "As soon as the guard is out, Newkirk will pop in, get the pictures, and pop out. Then I'll tell Klink it's time for us to return to the barracks, and have Schultz take us back to camp."

"But, mon Colonel," LeBeau now piped up, "What happens when they find the guard unconscious?"

"The effect of these pills doesn't last long," Hogan informed him, "He'll wake up before the party's over, and be so embarrassed that he fell asleep on the job, he won't tell anyone."

"I 'ope you're right, sir," Newkirk now said, his uncertainty evident in his voice.

Hogan glanced at him, his expression briefly showing his own concern. "I hope so, too," he replied.

* * * * * *

That night Klink went to the party decked out in his finest dress uniform; adorned with all of his ribbons and medals. Hogan and his men went too, in the truck that Schultz was driving. Hogan was wearing his regular uniform, and the men were in their waiters' outfits. As soon as they arrived at the hotel, Klink went to join the dozen or so other Luftwaffe officers and their wives milling about in the large room where the party was being held, while Schultz herded Hogan and his men to the kitchen.

General Burkhalter arrived shortly after, and soon the party was in full swing. Kinch, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk moved through the crowd, carrying trays loaded with drinks and hors d'oeuvres that quickly disappeared, which sent them hurrying back to the kitchen for more. After an hour or so had passed, and they'd made too many trips back and forth from the kitchen to count, it was time for the speeches at last. General Burkhalter got up first, and as he began to regale the crowd with some of the high points of General Berger's career, Newkirk grabbed a small plate of hors d'oeuvres and slipped away, adding an extra ingredient to them once he was out of sight.

He found the room easily enough; it was the only one with a guard posted outside. Newkirk smiled, approaching him amenably, and offered him something to eat. The guard seemed grateful and, smiling back, snatched up the appetizers hungrily. Within minutes he became sleepy, and Newkirk helped him to the floor before he completely passed out. Then he pulled out his lock picks, opened the door and slipped inside. The briefcase was lying on the bed, which made it easy enough to unlock it to get to the contents inside. He pulled the tiny camera out of the pocket where he'd hidden it underneath his waiter's uniform. Then he snapped pictures of the papers, put them back in the briefcase, closed and locked it, and exited the room, remembering to also lock the door as he left.

When Newkirk returned to the party, they were still giving speeches. He saw Hogan across the room and when he caught his eye, he nodded slightly. Hogan returned the nod, and proceeded to approach Klink and inform him that, since they were no longer needed, he wanted to take his men back to camp Klink acquiesced, and, after spotting Schultz, moved over to the sergeant to tell him to take the prisoners back.

As they were getting ready to leave, Newkirk happened to take a quick glance around the room, and suddenly his breath caught in his throat. There, across the room, standing in the corner, was Steiger! The major was staring at him, and when their eyes met, Steiger raised his glass and smiled coolly at him. Newkirk felt himself starting to react with his usual fear, when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hogan approaching him. He took a deep breath and turned to the colonel, who was now looking at him with concern.

"Newkirk, what's wrong?" Hogan whispered, "Is there a problem?"

"No, sir, there's no problem," Newkirk whispered back, trying to force himself to calm down.

Hogan wasn't convinced. "You didn't see Steiger again, did you?"

"No, sir!" Newkirk exclaimed quietly, "I wasn't even thinkin' about 'im! I was just wonderin' what's goin' to 'appen if that guard doesn't wake up soon, that's all."

Hogan glanced down at his watch. "Don't worry, he'll wake up long before these windbags get tired of talking," he said, cracking a smile, "C'mon, let's go."

As they left the room, Newkirk glanced back at the far corner, and, as he'd suspected, Steiger was gone.

On the way back to camp, he kept turning it over in his head, wondering if he'd really seen what he thought he'd seen. But he couldn't have, could he? Especially since he'd been getting enough sleep lately. Those other times might have been hallucinations brought about by lack of sleep, but this time; this time it must have been just someone who looked like Steiger. Yeah, that must be it; a case of mistaken identity. His mind was just playing tricks on him. In fact, now that he thought about it, the man didn't even resemble the SS Major as much as he originally thought.

By the time they'd returned to Stalag 13, Newkirk had convinced himself that he hadn't seen Steiger, after all.

* * *

(1) From the website, Lifesteps dot com


	7. The man behind the missions

After returning from working at the party for General Berger, Hogan and his exhausted men were looking forward to grabbing some much-needed sleep. They piled into the barracks and began to change into their nightclothes. Newkirk handed the camera over to Kinch, who took it below to the tunnel with him. The sergeant was headed down there, anyway, to let London know that the mission was successful.

As they were settling into their bunks, Newkirk crouched down in front of his footlocker, opened it and, after glancing around quickly, took a pill from the box inside and popped it into his mouth.

"Whatcha got there, Newkirk?" Carter asked from behind him.

Newkirk nearly choked as he forcibly swallowed the pill. "Blimey, Andrew," he responded as he turned to look at him, "Don't you know you shouldn't sneak up on a bloke like that?"

"Sorry, buddy," Carter replied, "I was just curious what you were taking, that's all."

"I'd say it's none of your ruddy business, Carter," Newkirk snapped.

Carter's face fell. "Geez, Newkirk, I didn't mean to bother you," he apologized.

Newkirk's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Andrew," he answered, his guilt nudging him, "I've just got this 'eadache, and I was takin' an aspirin to 'elp make it go away so I could sleep. I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, that's okay, Newkirk," Carter interrupted, "I wasn't trying to be nosy, I was just curious. I think that's a good idea to take an aspirin if you're head is hurting. Hey, maybe it'll help keep you from having another nightmare tonight!"

Newkirk smiled. "You never know, Andrew…it just might."

The men climbed into their respective bunks, and soon Newkirk could hear Carter snoring softly. As he waited for the medicine to knock him out, his guilt started to take over. _Ah, what a twister I've become, 'aven't I? Wilson, the gov'nor…and now Andrew. I've got to stop takin' these bloody things…but then 'ow am I ever goin' to get any sleep?_ He let out a yawn and, as he drifted off to sleep, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered, _you can't stop, you know…you're hooked._

* * * * * *

"Hey, Kinch, you still up?" Hogan asked as he jumped down from the ladder that led into the tunnel and approached the radioman. He'd gone to his quarters when they'd returned from the party, hopping up onto his bunk with every intention of getting some sleep. But after spending what seemed an eternity tossing and turning, he eventually gave up, and decided to go down to the tunnels; he needed to work off some of his nervous energy, and they provided more room for pacing. When he'd emerged from his quarters, he was surprised to see Kinch's bunk empty, and assumed the sergeant was still manning the radio. Sure enough, as he climbed down, he spotted him right away.

"Yes, sir," Kinch answered, surprised to see Hogan still up. "I just got done talking to the Underground, and they told me who's been helping to set up the missions lately."

"They did?" Hogan replied, leaning against the desk.

"Yes, they did," Kinch said. "Apparently there's a new agent working with them; he calls himself the Sandman. He's the one who's been passing along all the information about the missions, and getting the secret papers to us using the hotel safes."

"The Sandman?" Hogan echoed, "How long has he been part of the Underground?"

"Not long, Colonel; a few weeks or so. And no one has ever seen him."

"No one's seen him?" Hogan could feel the alarm bells going off in his head. "Kinch, I've got a bad feeling about this," he said as he began to do what he'd intended to do when he initially came down to the tunnel; pace.

Kinch nodded. "So do I."

Hogan continued to walk back and forth, his brow furrowed in concentration. After a few minutes, he stopped and looked at Kinch.

"All right, here's what I want you to do. Contact the Underground and tell them Papa Bear requests a meeting with the Sandman, face to face. And tell them I won't take no for an answer. I want to meet their newest member in person."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied, "But what if the Sandman refuses?"

Hogan frowned. "Then tell them that we won't go on any more of his missions until we do, got it?"

"I got it, Colonel," Kinch now looked at Hogan questioningly. "But, will they?"

Hogan's expression took on a look of determination. "They better," he said, then a yawn suddenly overtook him. "You know, you can send that in the morning, Kinch. I think we both could use some sleep."

"You sure, sir?"

Hogan smiled at him. "I'm sure. You've got to be tired, Kinch."

As if on cue, Kinch let out a huge yawn. "I wouldn't mind getting some sleep, Colonel," he replied.

"Me, neither. C'mon," Hogan headed for the ladder and climbed up to the barracks, Kinch right behind him. As Hogan tiptoed to his quarters, he looked over and saw that Newkirk was sound asleep. _Please, no nightmares tonight, _he pleaded in his head, wishing his thoughts could somehow influence Newkirk's subconscious. Then he disappeared into his quarters and, after jumping up on his bunk and stretching out, eventually fell asleep.

* * * * *

"_Tsk, tsk, Newkirk, you have a problem, you know," Steiger said as he shook his head slowly at the corporal._

"_I do not!" Newkirk shouted, yanking on his chains. "I can stop anytime!"_

"_Can you?" It was Hogan's voice. Newkirk whipped his head back and forth, trying to see where it was coming from. As he looked to his right, he saw him chained up to the wall next to him. _

"_Colonel! Are you all right?" Newkirk asked worriedly._

"_I'm all right, Newkirk," Hogan answered calmly, "Are you?"_

_Newkirk stared at him, his expression changing quickly from concern to defiance. "I'm fine! Why can't you all just bloody leave me alone? I'm fine!" he shouted._

"_You don't sound fine to me," Hogan replied._

"_I'm afraid I have to agree with your Colonel," Steiger now interjected, "You're not fine at all. In fact, I'd have to say you're quite a mess."_

"_No, I'm not!" Newkirk was adamant, "I know what I'm bloody doin'; I don't care if you don't believe me!"_

_Steiger smiled. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that! It makes my surprise for you so much more fun…for me."_

_Newkirk could feel his gut tighten, and he swallowed hard. "What surprise?" he asked tentatively._

"_I thought you'd never ask!" _

_Steiger stepped back, and suddenly Newkirk noticed the table behind him. There was a body on it, covered by a sheet, and for a brief second he thought it was Hogan. But no, Hogan was chained to the wall next to him. _

_Just then the SS Major reached down and pulled the sheet away, and Newkirk gasped; it was Carter!_

"_Andrew!" Newkirk exclaimed, "Andrew, please, get up, you've got to get away, run away, now, Andrew, please!"_

"_Newkirk, is that you?" Carter called out weakly, "Where am I? What's going on?"_

"_See what you did, Newkirk?" Hogan said, looking at him accusatorially._

"_Yes, Corporal, you only have yourself to blame, you know," Steiger added, and pulled out his scalpel. _

_Carter's eyes grew wide as he stared at the surgical instrument that Steiger was holding. "Newkirk, what's happening? Please, help me! Colonel, tell Newkirk to help me…I don't want to die!"_

"_He can't help you, Carter," Hogan replied sympathetically, "He can't even help himself."_

_Steiger looked at Newkirk with a satisfied grin plastered across his face. "Oh, what a tangled web we weave…" he stated, his voice trailing off, and then raised his hand._

"_Nooooo!" Newkirk cried out as the major's scalpel made contact with Carter's chest._

"Newkirk, wake up! You're having another nightmare!" Carter was shaking him for the second night in a row. "It's okay, it's all right, it's just a dream…c'mon, wake up!"

"No, no, no, no, NOOO!" Newkirk shouted.

"Aw, Newkirk, please, wake up!" Carter pleaded worriedly, "You're okay, you're safe, no one's hurting you, I promise! Wake up!"

Newkirk's eyes popped open at last, and he turned his head to see Carter looking at him with a concerned expression. "Andrew!" He exclaimed, overcome with relief, "You're okay! Oh, Andrew, me mate, I'm so sorry, can you ever forgive me?"

"Sure, Newkirk," Carter replied, and then looked at him curiously, "Forgive you for what?"

"For…wakin' you up again," Newkirk caught himself.

"Oh, that's okay, don't worry about me, it's you I'm worried about, Newkirk. Boy, that dream you were having must have been a doozy; I mean, the way you were yelling and you wouldn't stop, and then you weren't waking up right away...you sure had me scared, you know!"

"It scared me, too, mate," Newkirk admitted, then he reached over and clapped Carter on the shoulder. "Thanks for wakin' me up, Andrew," he said, smiling gratefully at him.

Carter smiled back. "Anytime, buddy," he replied, then asked, "So, what were you dreaming about, anyway?"

Newkirk's smile faded. "Somethin' I'd just as soon forget, if it's all the same to you," he responded quietly, trying desperately to get the last image of that horrible nightmare out of his head. Then, before Carter could ask anymore questions, he said, "Why don't you go on back to sleep now, Andrew, and I'll try to get a bit more, meself."

"Are you sure, Newkirk?" Carter still looked concerned.

"I'm sure," Newkirk renewed his smile and gave Carter's arm a pat. "I'm all right, mate."

"Well, okay," Carter replied, and started to lean down to get back into his bunk. Suddenly he straightened up and looked at the Englishman. "But if you have another nightmare, Newkirk, I promise I'll wake you up again; as fast as I can!"

"You do that, Andrew," Newkirk chuckled, and then lay back on his bunk, while Carter crawled into his own.

Newkirk lay in his bunk staring at the ceiling long after Carter fell back to sleep, still feeling guilty about the mess he'd made for himself over those pills he was taking. He hated deceiving everyone, but he knew that Hogan, and Wilson, would never have let him keep taking them, and they were the only things that made him feel better, the only things that helped him sleep, the only things that chased away the nightmares so he wouldn't have to face Steiger on a nightly basis. That is, until the last couple of nights, anyway. It occurred to him yet again that he was going to have to start taking more of the medicine to help him get through the night, even though he hated the idea; he was smart enough to realize he didn't know what he was doing. But it was either that, or stop taking them and tell Hogan what he'd been doing. But then he'd never get any sleep, would he? He thought about how he'd felt before he started taking the pills, and inwardly shuddered; no, he couldn't go back to that. _What bloody choice 'ave I got? _

His decision made, he fell into a fitful sleep, waking periodically and then slipping back into unconsciousness until morning, when it was time for roll call. He arose feeling tired and drained, which only added to his determination. Yes, he was going to take extra medicine tonight, no matter the risks.

* * * * * *

"Another nightmare, Newkirk?" Hogan asked him as they settled around the table after roll call. He'd noticed that the corporal looked more tired this morning; tired and something else…something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Yes, sir," Newkirk answered.

"He sure did have one, Colonel!" Carter exclaimed, "And from the sound of it, it was pretty bad."

"Did 'e ask?" Newkirk replied, looking at Carter with irritation.

"Sorry, Newkirk," Carter responded sheepishly, "I was only trying to help."

"Well, it's not like it's a secret, mon ami," LeBeau now piped up, addressing Newkirk, "You woke up the entire barracks…again!"

Newkirk's irritation was growing, along with his anxiety. Not to mention he had a nasty headache this morning. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry for disturbin' you, Louis," he shot back sarcastically, "Maybe I'll start sleepin' in the tunnel from now on, and you can 'ave it all nice and quiet up 'ere…"

"All right," Hogan interrupted, holding up his hand, "That's enough! Newkirk, you're not going to sleep in the tunnel. If it's becoming a problem, you can sleep in my quarters; then the only one you'll be disturbing is me." He then turned his attention to the Frenchman, "LeBeau, you know Newkirk can't help it."

"I know, sir, I'm sorry," LeBeau apologized.

"And Newkirk," Hogan sighed, "Your nightmares do seem to be becoming a problem again…I think I'll have Wilson check you out, like I should have done a week ago."

Newkirk inwardly started to panic. If anyone could tell he'd been taking sleeping pills, it would be the medic. "Colonel, that's not necessary," he said, trying to sound as calm as he could, "I feel fine; just a bit tired. Besides, there's nothin' Wilson can do about my dreams, is there?"

Hogan stared at him for a moment. There it was, again, that look in Newkirk's eyes; there was something…off about him. It wasn't instantly noticeable; in fact, it was more of a subtle thing, almost undetectable, something that no one would catch, unless they knew him very, very well. He opened his mouth, intending to order him to report to Wilson anyway, when, at the last second, changed his mind.

"You're right, Newkirk," he said, "I suppose Wilson can't do anything about your dreams. But if your health starts to suffer, you're going to let the medic look you over, and you're going to do whatever he tells you, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Newkirk complied.

"Breakfast is ready," LeBeau suddenly called out, and began to load the food onto plates, and pass them out. Everyone dug in hungrily.

As they ate, Hogan surreptitiously glanced at Newkirk a few times. He'd decided that he was going to start watching him, very closely, and whatever was really going on with him, whatever he was hiding, he was determined to find out.

* * * * * *

It was midmorning when Kinch climbed up to the barracks from the tunnel below, and headed straight for Hogan's quarters. After a knock on the door and an acknowledgment to enter, he opened the door and stepped inside.

"I got a message from the Sandman, himself, Colonel," Kinch stated.

Hogan was seated at his desk, reading a book. At Kinch's words, he whipped his head up and looked at the sergeant. "You did?" He exclaimed.

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied, "He says he would be happy to meet with you tomorrow night, at 2200 hours, at an abandoned farm about two miles from here. He gave me the directions…" Kinch held out the notebook he had in his hand for Hogan to look at; the directions were scribbled on top.

Hogan studied it briefly. "Yeah, I know where that is," he said, "In fact, we've had meetings there before with some of the Underground members."

"Yes, sir, that's the place," Kinch replied. "And Colonel," he added, "He also wanted me to tell you to bring someone that can open a combination lock."

Hogan's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What for?"

"He said they've got an operative who's going to be infiltrating a high-level meeting tomorrow morning between some of the top brass. The agent's gonna go in and switch briefcases with one of them, and bring the case to the Sandman. He would like you to bring a man that can open it."

Hogan's alarm bells were going off again. "He wants me to bring someone that can open a locked briefcase, does he?" he muttered quietly, and then a bit louder, "Kinch, who do we have in camp that fits that description?"

Kinch looked at Hogan, knowing that the Colonel already knew what he was going to say. "The only one I know of is Newkirk," he replied.

"Yep, Newkirk," Hogan said. "All right, Kinch, tell the Sandman I'll be there, and I'll bring the man for the job."

"Are you sure, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Hogan responded.

Kinch looked concerned. "You know, sir, maybe you should let a couple of us tag along, just in case."

Hogan contemplated it for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, Kinch, that won't be necessary. The Sandman's been giving us some pretty sensitive information; I'm sure he's on the level. Besides, maybe now I can find out why all the missions we get from him end up including Newkirk."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied, although he still felt uneasy about the whole thing.

"Okay, you let the Sandman know, and I'll talk to Newkirk."

"Right away, Colonel," Kinch said, and headed out of Hogan's quarters.

* * * * * *

Hogan found Newkirk soon after his conversation with Kinch, and filled him in on their mission for the following evening. As he talked to him, he scrutinized the corporal as much as he was able to without causing suspicion, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, apart from him looking tired. Well, maybe after their meeting with the mysterious Sandman, he could contact the Underground, and tell them they'd have to cut back on the jobs that required lock-picking and safe-cracking. Newkirk needed a break, and he was determined to give him one.

Later that afternoon, when most of the men were either off taking care of various jobs that needed to be done around the camp, or outside playing volleyball, Newkirk wandered into the barracks and took a quick look around. After making sure no one was there, he went over to his footlocker and, crouching down, opened it, removing the small box inside. He opened the box, took out one of the pills, and, after replacing the lid, set the pill on top of it. Then he reached up behind his neck, and pulled out his pencil sharpener. With a steady hand, he carefully quartered the pill, and then pulled the lid up and tilted it slightly, letting the pieces slide down into the box. Then he once again replaced the lid, returned his pencil sharpener to its usual spot, put the box back in his locker, and closed and locked it. He stood up and, with one more quick glance around the room, headed outside. Tonight, at least, he was going to get some sleep, which should make him much more ready to face their mission the following night.


	8. The Sandman revealed

It was almost time for lights out, and the men were getting ready for bed. Newkirk knelt down and began rummaging through his footlocker, and, when he was sure no one was paying attention this time, grabbed a pill, and one of the pieces from the other pill that he had cut up earlier, and popped them into his mouth. Then he closed the footlocker and jumped up to his bunk, stretching out to get as comfortable as possible. By the time everyone was in their bunks and the lights were turned out, he was just about asleep.

In no time it was morning, and the next thing Newkirk knew, Carter was waking him up for roll call. He felt drowsy and dizzy again, and his stomach was a little upset, but he'd slept through the night with no nightmares this time to bother him. He inwardly smiled at his ingenuity, and then became concerned; he only had enough pills left for a few more nights. He'd have to raid Wilson's footlocker again, wouldn't he? Well, he should get a chance to do that after their mission that night; once they'd returned from their meeting with the Sandman. He'd just sneak in there like he did before, and grab another handful. A thought filtered through from the back of his mind, and he wondered briefly what he was going to do once he'd depleted Wilson's inventory, but he quickly shook it off. He'd worry about that later.

Hogan noticed right away that Newkirk seemed more rested today, although the corporal still appeared to be a bit sleepy, and a little slower in his responses. But that was understandable, considering he'd finally slept through the night, with no nightmares to terrorize him for a change. As the day wore on, Newkirk seemed to perk up, and by the time they were getting ready to head out for the meeting, the Englishman was his usual, wisecracking self. He took one last glance at Kinch, telling him to hold down the fort, and then he and Newkirk slipped out into the night.

Hogan and Newkirk made their way undetected through the forest, like they'd done countless times before. Soon they were at the meeting place; the barn on the edge of an abandoned farm that the Underground used periodically for their meetings. They approached cautiously and, spotting nothing suspicious, headed for the building. Hogan went first, opening the door slowly and slipping quietly inside, followed closely by Newkirk. As they moved further inside, a man suddenly stepped out of the shadows and calmly addressed them.

"Papa Bear?" The man asked quietly. He had a thick beard covering the lower half of his face, and his hat was pulled down low on his head.

"Yeah, that's me," Hogan replied, "Are you the Sandman?"

"No, I just work for him," The man answered. "But he's here; I'll go get him."

As the man turned to leave, Newkirk grabbed Hogan's arm and whispered into his ear, "Colonel, I've seen that bloke before, I just know it!"

When the man had disappeared, Hogan responded quietly, "Where have you seen him, Newkirk?"

Newkirk thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "I'm not sure, gov'nor, but 'e seems very familiar…"

"Well, maybe you'll remember when he comes back," Hogan said, as they waited for the man to return, hopefully accompanied by the Sandman.

* * * * * *

"I'd feel much better if the colonel would've let us tag along, you know," Carter was saying as he leaned against the table where Kinch was seated, keeping a vigil on the radio.

"Me, too," LeBeau agreed, "We could at least have followed them for backup."

"The colonel didn't think they'd need it," Kinch explained. "I'm sure everything's fine, fellas," he added encouragingly, despite his own misgivings, "Whoever this Sandman is, he's helped us and the Underground a lot. He probably just wanted to meet the colonel face to face."

Just then the radio came to life, and Kinch raised the headphones that were draped around his neck and placed them over his ears. "Yes, this is Papa Bear, go ahead, Rose Red."

"Rose Red?" Carter whispered to LeBeau.

"The Underground's latest call sign," LeBeau whispered back.

"Could you repeat that?" Kinch spoke into the radio, "He what? Oh, really…uh, huh…really? That's very interesting…hold on a minute," He looked at LeBeau and Carter, "This guy's got some interesting information about the night that you all set that SS facility on fire."

"He does?" LeBeau asked.

"Yeah," Kinch said, "He just found out that, apparently about two months ago, the same night that you torched the place, there was a man who was brought to one of the local hospitals with multiple gunshot wounds. He was in critical condition, but the doctor there was able to save the guy's life."

"Wow, really? Who was it?" Carter piped up.

"Let him finish, Carter!" LeBeau scowled at him.

"Well," Kinch continued, "The guy recovered, but he gave the hospital a false name; they never found out his real name, or the name of the two guys who brought him in."

"That is strange," LeBeau said. "What do you think it means?"

"I don't know, but it is suspicious…" Kinch started to say, then held up his hand, "Yes, go ahead Rose Red…no, the Colonel is meeting with the Sandman right now…is that so? No, I believe you…yes, we'll take care of it. Papa Bear out."

"What was that all about?" Carter piped up.

"Apparently they didn't know anything about the meeting between Papa Bear and the Sandman," Kinch informed them. "I wonder why the Sandman didn't tell the Underground about it…" _And why haven't they been able to find out what happened to Steiger's body, and who was the man who was brought in with gunshot wounds, and how does Newkirk figure in all this…_

Suddenly Kinch's eyes grew wide. "Holy cats!" He exclaimed.

"What is it?" LeBeau asked, becoming concerned.

"The man who was shot, it was the same night that Newkirk let Steiger have it…"

"So?" LeBeau replied, not sure where Kinch was going with this.

"So, the colonel and I found out a few days ago that Steiger's body was never recovered."

LeBeau looked at him, stunned. "Kinch, are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked, "That the man who showed up at the hospital two months ago…no, it couldn't be…"

"Couldn't be who?" Carter blurted out, glancing back and forth between them.

"Steiger!" Kinch and LeBeau simultaneously exclaimed.

"Not only that," Kinch now informed them, "But no one's actually met the Sandman face to face yet."

LeBeau sucked in his breath. "Then that means the Sandman could be..."

As the realization hit them, the three men just stared at each other for a moment, then Kinch said, "I'll call the Underground back, and tell them what we figured out, and that the Colonel and Newkirk are headed into a trap. Louis, I think you and Andrew better go after them, don't you?"

"Oui!" LeBeau grabbed Carter's arm, "Come on, Carter, let's go!"

"I'm with you, Louis!" Carter exclaimed as LeBeau led the way to the emergency exit. They stopped briefly to grab a couple of guns that they had stashed down there, and then the two men slipped out of camp and headed for the farmhouse.

* * * * * *

Hogan and Newkirk didn't have long to wait. The man returned almost immediately, followed by another man who was wearing a long coat with a hood that was covering his head. As they approached, Newkirk shifted nervously, prompting Hogan to call out, "Sandman?"

Suddenly the man threw back his hood, and brought up the gun that was in his hand. The man next to him raised his gun as well, and the two Allied prisoners also heard the distinct sound of a gun's safety being pulled back directly behind them. They were surrounded.

As the hood fell from the man who called himself the Sandman, Newkirk's breath caught in his throat, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. Hogan glanced at him, then at the man, then back at the Englishman. "Newkirk, do you see Major Steiger standing in front of us?" He asked, point blank.

It took a moment for Newkirk to find his voice. "Yes, sir," he finally squeaked out, "I see 'im, plain as day."

Hogan swallowed hard. "So do I," he admitted, and then a knot formed in his gut as he heard Steiger let out a laugh.

"Ah, Colonel Hogan, welcome," Steiger said jovially, "I'm so glad you could come. I have plans for you and Corporal Newkirk; plans you will no doubt find very interesting." Then he looked at his two accomplices. "Put them in the car," Steiger ordered, "But cuff them first; I don't trust them. And search them, too…especially Corporal Newkirk." He smiled at the Englishman, who had become quite pale by now, and then turned and headed outside.

The man who was standing behind them approached, and grabbed Newkirk's arms, yanking them behind his back while the other man kept his gun aimed at the prisoners. He cuffed Newkirk's wrists, and then moved over to Hogan. Then the two men searched them, confiscating their guns, in addition to Newkirk's lock picks and pencil sharpener. When they were finished, they led the prisoners out to the waiting car. The men shoved Newkirk and Hogan into the back seat, and then one of them got in next to the colonel, while the other walked around and slid into the driver's seat. Steiger was already sitting in the passenger's seat up front. As soon as the man behind the wheel started the car, he drove away.

* * * * *

"Carter," LeBeau was panting as the two men neared the barn, after having nearly sprinted the whole way, "We need…to be…quiet…"

"I know," Carter breathlessly answered, "Do you see…anything?"

"No, I don't…wait, what was that?" LeBeau ran forward, "It sounded like a car starting up!"

Carter caught up to him, and they watched helplessly as they spotted the car driving away from the barn. They both knew what that meant; they were too late.

* * * * * *

As the car turned onto the road and picked up speed, Steiger shifted in his seat so he could turn to look at his captives. "Corporal Newkirk, I'm sure you remember two of my guards; Rolf and Dietrich." He motioned first to the older man in the back seat sitting next to Hogan, and then to the driver. "They've been helping me with my recovery. I was shot several times, you know."

"Yeah, so how come you're not dead? I could have sworn we killed you," Hogan interjected loudly.

Steiger glanced at Hogan, his eyes darkening, "Everything will be explained to you when we arrive at our destination. Until then, I suggest you sit back and enjoy the ride." Then he smiled wide. "It may be your last."

Newkirk's mind was reeling. He was in a state of mental shock; Steiger was alive! So he _had_ been seeing him all this time. And the two guards that had tormented him at the SS facility; they were here, too. He knew he'd seen the older one before; it was the beard and the hat that had thrown him. And now he and Hogan were Steiger's prisoners, and he had a pretty good idea where that was going to lead. His fear was consuming him more with each mile they passed, and he drew into himself, not wanting to deal with the situation. But then he remembered that Hogan was sitting next to him, and he realized that he wasn't facing this alone. Maybe, somehow, the colonel could get them out of their predicament…if anyone could, Hogan could. So he took a few slow, deep breaths and forced himself to calm down as much as he was able; determined not to give up hope just yet.

The car continued to drive for a while, and just when Hogan and Newkirk started to wonder where the heck they were going, it slowed, and turned off onto a dirt road on the right. They went for another mile or so, and then arrived at an old brick house nestled among the tall trees; it had obviously been there for many years. The car slowed, then came to a stop. Steiger and the driver, Dietrich, got out, and by the time Rolf opened his door, the other two German men were ready with guns in hand. Rolf exited the car, pulling Hogan out with him, and then reached in to grab Newkirk. Once the Englishman was out, the group headed for the house, Steiger in the lead. He opened the door and entered, heading straight for the door that led to the basement. Steiger started down the steps, followed by Hogan and Newkirk; Rolf and Dietrich bringing up the rear, giving the prisoners a shove from behind.

When they reached the basement, Steiger led them into a large room that contained a cot against one wall. The adjacent brick wall held two sets of shackles firmly attached to it. Hogan and Newkirk exchanged glances, and then Rolf stepped up and proceeded to unlock the cuffs on Hogan's wrists. Hogan brought his arms forward and rubbed his wrists, looking expectantly at Rolf to un-cuff Newkirk, but the former guard backed away.

"You'll have to forgive me, Colonel," Steiger said, "But I think Corporal Newkirk should keep his handcuffs on. I don't want him to get too comfortable." He stared at Newkirk for a few moments, his eyes unreadable, and then turned and left, followed by his henchmen. The door closed and locked behind them, and Hogan and Newkirk were alone.

"Newkirk?" Hogan turned to look at him, and immediately noticed he was as white as a sheet. "Are you okay?"

Newkirk looked like he was about to pass out by this point. "Colonel, I…I…" Suddenly his knees buckled.

Hogan reached out and grabbed him, guiding him over to the cot. Once he got Newkirk seated, he sat down next to him and, putting his arm around his shoulders, said, "Hey, it's all right, Newkirk, take some deep breaths, nice and slow…that's it. It's gonna be okay, I'm not gonna let that psycho do anything to you. I'll figure a way out of this," then he smiled reassuringly at him, "I always do, don't I?"

Newkirk looked at him and replied in a quiet voice, "It's not me I'm worryin' about, gov'nor…it's you."

Hogan looked at him with surprise. "Me? Oh, don't worry about me; I can take care of myself."

"Not against Steiger, you can't." Newkirk uttered, then he looked into Hogan's eyes, letting his fear show; the raw terror that was now consuming him. "I know what 'e plans to do…"

The knot in Hogan's gut tightened as he realized what Newkirk was referring to. As much as he wanted to open his mouth at that moment and deny it, tell Newkirk it wasn't going to happen like that, deep down he knew the corporal was right. Even though he hadn't seen Steiger in action, he knew how the man operated. He looked into Newkirk's terrified eyes, wanting desperately to reassure him again that everything would be okay, but he couldn't. _Dammit, this is all my fault! What was I thinking, agreeing to meet with the Sandman, without any backup…and bringing Newkirk with me, on top of it! I should have believed him when he told me he was seeing Steiger…_

Hogan took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "Look, Newkirk, I know things seem pretty bad right now, but I'm going to do everything I can to get us out of this mess. And so will Kinch, Carter and LeBeau, not to mention the Underground."

"'Ow are they goin' to 'elp us, when they don't know where we are?" Newkirk replied, "Or that Steiger's alive?"

"Trust me, the Underground is very close to finding out about Steiger, and when we don't return to camp, the guys will contact them, and they'll figure it out." _Which is what I should have done, days ago!_

Newkirk's eyes now showed curiosity, with a little suspicion mixed in. "The Underground is close to findin' out that Steiger's alive? 'Ow do you know that?"

Hogan broke eye contact with Newkirk for a moment, then looked back at him; his expression now laced with guilt, "Because I asked them to find out what happened to Steiger's body, and they weren't able to locate it," he told him.

Newkirk's eyes widened. "You did? When did you do that, Colonel?"

"Several days ago. I thought if they could find out where he was buried, it might help you get over the nightmares." Hogan paused as he watched that bit of information sink in, then pressed on, "Newkirk, I'm sorry, this whole thing is my fault. I never should have agreed to this meeting; but more importantly, I should have believed you when you told me you saw Steiger. If we ever get out of here, I promise I'll never doubt you again."

"You…knew?" The hurt and confusion in Newkirk's voice was evident.

"Not that Steiger was alive," Hogan said, "Only that his body couldn't be located."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Newkirk," Hogan felt terrible. Not only had he royally screwed up and gotten them in a world of trouble, he'd kept information from someone who, in hindsight, might have been able to help figure all this out, especially if he'd bothered to believe him, and they wouldn't be in this mess right now. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."

Newkirk stared at him for a few moments, his eyes alternately reflecting emotions of anger, hurt, and despair. Then at last he replied, "I wish you 'ad, gov'nor, but I don't think it would 'ave mattered. Steiger's a smart one, 'e is. 'E would 'ave found a way to nab us, sooner or later. You might 'ave put this off for a bit, if you'd known, but you couldn't 'ave stopped it. Besides, it's me 'e wants to punish, isn't it?" Newkirk shifted his arms in response; they were still cuffed behind him. "I think 'e's mad that I shot 'im."

Just then they heard the door being unlocked, and as it swung open Steiger entered, flanked by Rolf, minus the beard and hat, and Dietrich. The former SS Major spotted his captives sitting on the cot, and smiled at them. "Well, don't you two look cozy?" He said, noticing Hogan's arm around the corporal's shoulders.

Hogan forced himself to smile back. "Just trying to keep warm. It's very drafty down here, you know."

Steiger chuckled. "Colonel, you amuse me. I must say I almost regret what I have in store for you."

"Well, why don't you let us go? Then you won't have anything to regret."

Steiger's smile faded. "Oh, but I would. Your corporal here has done a terrible thing, and he needs to be taught a lesson." He glanced at Newkirk, and his eyes darkened for a moment, then he shifted his gaze back to Hogan. "What a shame that it is you who will have to suffer for it," he said coolly. As he turned to leave, he added, "Sleep well; you're going to need it." And then he and his men were gone.

Hogan stared at the closed door for a moment, and then turned back to Newkirk. "Well, that went well, don't you think?" He stated, with more than a little sarcasm in his voice, and then frowned. "He could have at least taken your cuffs off," he added, glancing behind Newkirk at his wrists. "You got anything on you that I can use to try to get those things off?"

"No, sir," Newkirk answered, "They got my lock picks when they ruddy searched me."

Hogan sighed. "Well, Steiger was right about one thing; some sleep would be a good idea. Here," he started to get up, "Why don't you take the cot for now? I can curl up in the corner if I get tired."

Newkirk was already shaking his head. "No, Colonel, you take the cot…I don't think I could sleep right now if I tried…"

"No, Newkirk, you take it," Hogan said, standing over him, "I insist."

Newkirk could tell Hogan wasn't about to debate it. "All right, Colonel, I'll take it." With a little help from Hogan, he leaned down on his side and brought his legs up onto the cot, making himself as comfortable as possible despite the cuffs.

Hogan picked up the thin blanket that had been left for them, and spread it out over Newkirk "Now, get some sleep, Newkirk, and that's an order!" He said, flashing him a smile.

Newkirk grinned. "Yes, sir." He closed his eyes, trying to block out everything going on in his mind, and then suddenly a thought occurred to him, and at that moment he knew he wasn't going to be able to fall sleep. _I can't sleep without the pills, can I? And they're back at camp. Blimey, the gov'nor's sure to find out about this now!_


	9. Truth be told

"Kinch!" Carter called out as he and LeBeau ran into the main tunnel area, "We were too late! The Sandman…" he paused for a moment to catch his breath, "He took the colonel and Newkirk away!"

"You mean, Steiger," Kinch reminded him.

"Yeah, Steiger…we got there just as they were driving away."

"I was afraid of that," Kinch replied.

"What do we do now?" LeBeau asked as he approached the table that Kinch was seated behind.

"Well, we gotta find 'em, right?" Carter said, "And then we'll go rescue them from Steiger, and bring 'em back to camp."

LeBeau frowned at him. "Where do you suggest we look, Carter?"

"Geez, I don't know," Carter now looked confused, "But we gotta do something…"

"I'll contact the Underground," Kinch cut in, "And tell them to do a little snooping around. We need to find them quickly…no telling what Steiger's planning on doing to them."

"Good idea," LeBeau said, then a thought hit him, "Hey, what about roll call tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah," Carter piped up, "What if we don't get 'em back by then?"

"Then we're gonna have to tell Klink they escaped," Kinch informed them.

LeBeau and Carter nodded in agreement. Then Carter said, "You know what this means, don't you?"

What, Carter?" LeBeau asked.

"Newkirk really did see Steiger on all those missions."

* * * * * *

After almost an hour of lying on the cot with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, Newkirk finally gave up. He opened his eyes, already knowing what he was going to see; he'd been listening to Hogan's footsteps pacing back and forth in the cell for the last half hour. Sure enough, the colonel was rounding the far corner of the cell, on his way back for another pass.

"You keep that up, sir, and you'll wear out your shoes," he quipped as Hogan neared the cot.

Hogan stopped in mid-stride and looked at him. "Oh, sorry, Newkirk, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You didn't, Colonel," Newkirk replied, "I can't sleep, meself." He shifted his legs over the side of the cot, and started to sit up. Hogan walked over to give him a hand.

"Ooh," Newkirk groaned, "Feels like me arm did the sleepin' for me." The arm he'd been lying on was tingling, and his wrists were sore from the cuffs. "Colonel, why don't you let me wear out me shoes for a bit, and you take the cot?"

"Why don't we both just sit for a while," Hogan said, and plopped down next to him. He leaned back a little to look at Newkirk's wrists; they were both looking pretty raw from where the metal had been rubbing against them. "I sure wish I could get those things off of you," he sighed.

"Me, too, sir!" Newkirk exclaimed.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and then Newkirk piped up, "Colonel? There's somethin' I…I mean, there's somethin' I need to…um, I don't quite know 'ow to tell you this…"

"Just say it," Hogan replied, looking at him with concern.

Newkirk cleared his throat. "Well, it's just that I…what I mean, is…"

"Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me, Newkirk."

"I 'ave to, um, you know," Newkirk glanced over at the bucket in the corner, and then back at Hogan.

It took Hogan only a moment to realize what Newkirk was alluding to. "Oh…OH!" He exclaimed as it suddenly dawned on him why Newkirk was telling him what he needed to do…he had his hands cuffed behind his back, didn't he? "Uh, yeah, um, well," Hogan blustered, and then finally just stood up, grabbing Newkirk's arm to help him to his feet. "C'mon," he uttered as he led him to the corner of the cell.

"This is so bloody embarrassin'," Newkirk mumbled when they got there.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Hogan responded.

Soon enough they were back sitting on the cot. "Newkirk, are you sure you don't have anything on you that can open those cuffs?" Hogan was sounding desperate by now.

"You 'ave no idea 'ow much I wish I did," Newkirk answered, "Believe me, Colonel, I'd gnaw 'em off with me own teeth right now if I could!"

Hogan sighed. "Hopefully I can talk Steiger into taking them off in the morning."

Newkirk nodded. "I bloody well 'ope so, too."

* * * * * *

Wilson had a nasty headache. It had been plaguing him for most of the evening, and it was still there after lights out when they'd all retired to their bunks. He tossed and turned for a while, but knew he wasn't going to get any sleep with his head throbbing the way it was. Finally he got up and tiptoed quietly to his footlocker. After he crouched down and unlocked the large trunk, he swung the cover up and peered inside. As he reached for the aspirin, a certain small container caught his eye, and he grabbed it, lifting it up in front of him. It was his supply of Sodium Amytal. Something about it didn't feel right, so he opened the bottle and shook the contents out into his hand. He noticed immediately that almost half of them were missing, and it didn't take him long to figure out who would have pilfered his supply of sleeping pills…or how. _I better let the colonel know about this, _he thought as he closed his locker and straightened up. Then he snuck off in the direction of Barracks two.

When he got there, he didn't see any of Hogan's men in the main barracks, and the colonel wasn't in his quarters, so he went over to the false bottom bunk and, after opening it, climbed down. Once he reached the bottom, he saw Kinch at the table with the radio, and Carter and LeBeau standing near him. "Where's the colonel?" He asked as he approached them.

The three men looked at him, obviously worried. "He and Newkirk went out to meet with someone from the Underground," Kinch informed him, "Turns out it was Steiger…he's alive!"

Wilson's eyes widened in disbelief, "Steiger's alive?" He exclaimed.

"Oui!" LeBeau replied, "And he's taken Newkirk and the colonel prisoner!"

Wilson let out a whistle. "You fellas have any idea where they are?"

"Not yet," Kinch said, "We've got the Underground searching, but I think it's going to take time."

"Yeah, and there's no telling what Steiger's gonna do to them if we don't find 'em soon," Carter added.

"Steiger's not their only problem," Wilson stated matter-of-factly.

The men looked at him curiously. "What do you mean, Wilson?" LeBeau asked.

Wilson held up the bottle containing what was left of the Sodium Amytal. "Someone stole about half my supply of sleeping pills, and I've got a pretty good idea it was Newkirk."

Carter's eyes widened, "So, that's why he got so mad at me the other night when I saw him take that pill! He told me it was aspirin, but I'll bet it was one of those sleeping pills!"

LeBeau frowned at him. "You saw Newkirk take a sleeping pill? And you didn't tell anyone?"

"I thought it was aspirin!" Carter replied defensively.

"All right, fellas," Kinch interjected, "This isn't helping." He turned his attention to Wilson. "If Newkirk's been taking those things, how's that going to affect him?"

"Well," Wilson said, his brow furrowing, "A lot of that depends on how much he was taking. Carter, you said you saw him take only one pill, right?"

"Yeah, I'm sure it was only one," Carter answered.

"And when was that?" Wilson asked.

"That was two nights ago…not last night, but the night before…yeah, I remember because that was the last time he woke up with a nightmare."

"So, he didn't have a nightmare last night…" Wilson contemplated for a moment, "How did he seem today?"

"He seemed okay; a little drowsy in the morning, maybe," Kinch now piped up.

"And he slept through the night?"

"Oh, yeah," Carter replied, "In fact, when I woke him up for roll call, he sure didn't want to get up, boy! I had to shake him a few times just to…"

"That's fine, Carter," Wilson interrupted him. He thought for another moment. "All right, my best guess is he took a little extra last night, because the medicine was losing its effect. It does that over time. It couldn't have been too much more; though, since he didn't suffer any serious adverse affects. Now, he's been taking them for…" he mentally counted back to the night before Newkirk had visited him in his barracks, "Six days, so if last night was the first time he increased the dose, then maybe it won't be too severe."

"Maybe what won't be too severe?" LeBeau asked the question that was on all their minds.

"The withdrawal he's going to go through." Wilson informed them. "If you stop taking this stuff abruptly," he held up the bottle, "You're going to suffer from the withdrawal effects."

When Wilson finished, the men just looked at each other for a moment. At last Kinch let out a sigh, "Then we better hope the Underground finds them even sooner."

* * * * * *

Newkirk was sitting on the cot, Hogan seated next to him; both of them leaning back against the wall. They'd already been there for hours, and Newkirk guessed it was around two or three in the morning by now. Hogan was dozing, and he'd been considering getting up to let him have the cot, but he didn't want to wake him. He knew what would happen; the colonel would apologize for falling asleep, and then get up and make him lie down again. And that's the last thing he wanted to do right now.

He'd begun feeling strange for the past hour or so; kind of dizzy, kind of antsy, his heart seemed to be beating a little faster, his breathing rate had picked up a little…and his anxiety level was going through the roof. And it wasn't just the normal stress and fear that anyone would be feeling in his situation. This went beyond that; it was more like when he had panicked that one night; back when Steiger was still running that SS facility, and he and Hogan, together with the rest of the guys, had left camp on a mission. He'd experienced similar symptoms, then. But what he remembered most was the intense anxiety, the giant knot in his gut, the fear that seemed to surround him from the inside. That's what it felt like now, only – try as he might to make it stop by taking slow, deep breaths – it wasn't going away.

Just then Hogan stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. He sat there for a few moments, blinking and getting his bearings, and then remembered where he was. He leaned forward, looking next to him, and when he saw Newkirk looking back, blinked again. "Newkirk," he uttered, "How long have I been out?"

"Not long, Colonel," Newkirk answered, "An hour or so, maybe."

Hogan leaned back again and groaned. He brought his hand up to his eyes, rubbed them gently for a moment, and then let his hand fall back down next to him. "When this war is over, I'm going to sleep for a year," he grumbled.

"Yes, sir, me, too," Newkirk responded.

Hogan couldn't help noticing something funny in Newkirk's voice. He turned his head to look at the corporal, and was concerned at what he saw. Newkirk looked very tense, and he seemed to be breathing rather fast. "Newkirk, are you all right?" He asked.

"Yes, sir, it's just…" his voice trailed off.

Suddenly an image flashed through Hogan's mind; a memory of the very mission that Newkirk had been thinking about earlier. It occurred to him that the corporal appeared to be suffering the same way now as he had then. "Newkirk, it's okay," he said, trying to reassure him, "There's nothing to panic about, at least, not at the moment…just take some nice, slow, deep breaths…"

"What do you think I've been doin'?" Newkirk snapped at him, and then, with a horrified expression on his face, quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Colonel, I didn't mean to…"

"That's all right," Hogan cut him off, "I know this is hard for you…"

Newkirk's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you know this is 'ard for me, do you? 'Avin' to face me worst nightmare, gettin' 'auled off to who knows where, bein' kept in 'andcuffs just to make me life more miserable…what makes you think this is 'ard for me?"

Hogan was becoming annoyed by now. "Can the sarcasm, Newkirk, I'm on your side, remember?"

Newkirk looked like he was about to let Hogan have it, when his expression took on a struggle of its own. Finally he said, "I'm sorry, Colonel, I don't know what came over me. I 'aven't been feelin' too good lately…" He stopped to catch his breath. "I just can't seem to calm down…"

Hogan's annoyance quickly changed to concern. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't know, I don't think so, sir…nothin' seems to be workin', does it?"

"There's got to be something…" Hogan's wheels were turning as he sat there, watching Newkirk struggling. Just then a voice filtered into his brain; the voice of Sergeant Wilson from a conversation he'd had with him not too long ago…"_Serious withdrawal affects...__anxiety, irritability, tremors, elevated heart and respiration rate, dizziness, confusion, muscle __pain__, nausea…" _

Hogan glanced behind Newkirk at his hands; they seemed to be twitching a little bit. Then he looked back at the Englishman. "Newkirk, are you feeling dizzy, by any chance?"

"Yes, sir," Newkirk responded, "And it seems to be gettin' worse."

Hogan took a deep breath, and let out a sigh. "How long have you been taking those sleeping pills, Newkirk?" He asked, point blank.

"What?" Newkirk exclaimed, "Colonel, I don't know what you're talkin' about…"

"Don't lie to me!" Hogan yelled angrily, taking Newkirk by surprise.

"Colonel, I swear…" Newkirk studied Hogan's expression, and knew he'd been caught. He also knew it was time for him to come clean. "All right, you got me, gov'nor. I've been takin' those pills for about a week. They were the only things, what were 'elpin' me sleep. You can court-martial me if you want; if we ever get out of this, but in the meantime, you mind tellin' me 'ow you figured it out?"

Hogan just looked at him for a moment. At last he said, "It was Wilson. I talked to him a few days ago about letting you take some more of those pills, and he told me what the withdrawal effects were like if you had to stop taking them suddenly. It wasn't hard to guess that's what you're going through."

"Withdrawal effects? Blimey, so that's what's wrong with me!" Newkirk exclaimed, relieved to at least know why he was feeling so bad. "What else did Wilson tell you, Colonel?" He asked, now wondering if this was going to get worse.

Hogan filled Newkirk in on the conversation he'd had with Wilson. "Unfortunately, he never mentioned how long the effects were supposed to last," Hogan went on to say, feeling as disappointed as Newkirk looked at that bit of news.

"So, there's no tellin' 'ow long I'll be feelin' like this, or 'ow bad it's goin' to get, is there?" Newkirk replied when Hogan finished. "Cor, If I'd known about the effects, Colonel, I never would 'ave started takin' the pills."

"That's why you're not supposed to take medicine without the doctor's, or in this case, the medic's approval," Hogan said, then he frowned as a thought popped into his head. "How did you get a hold of those pills, anyway?"

Newkirk cast his eyes downward, not wanting to look Hogan in the eyes when he told him, but it caused his dizziness to intensify, so he quickly returned his gaze back to the colonel. He sat there for a moment, fighting the dizziness, then finally replied, "I stole 'em from Wilson's footlocker."

"You what?" Hogan shouted, angry again, "Newkirk, how could you do that? How am I ever supposed to trust you again..."

"Well, you wouldn't let Wilson give them to me, would you?" Newkirk shouted back, "You knew those pills were 'elpin' me, and 'e knew it, too! I 'ad to do somethin'…" He stopped to catch his breath.

"But you stole from Wilson! From one of us! Maybe I should have you court-martialed after all…" It was then Hogan noticed Newkirk's rapid breathing. "Ah, Newkirk," he continued in a more sympathetic tone, "I guess this isn't the time or place to be hashing all this out. Look, I do understand why you did it, but how many times have I told you to come to me if you have a problem? Maybe we could have worked something out with Wilson. But right now, we've got to find a way to help you. Here," he got up from the cot, "Why don't you lie down? It might make you feel better, especially if you can get some sleep before morning."

Newkirk was about to protest, but his exhaustion and dizziness wouldn't let him. "You may be right," Newkirk replied, and then, as Hogan helped him lie down on his side, he added, "Look, Colonel, I'm really sorry, I never meant to deceive you, or Wilson. I know what I did was wrong, and I'm willin' to accept the consequences. But I'd be much 'appier doin' that back at Stalag 13, instead of 'ere in me own real-life nightmare. You think there's a chance we could get out of this alive?"

"There's always a chance," Hogan replied, trying to reassure him.

Newkirk flashed him a tired grin. "Yes, sir, I suppose you're right…there's always a chance." Then he closed his eyes, and tried to relax. And a short time later, despite the odds, he finally fell asleep.


	10. A bad dream, a bad man

"_So, your colonel knows about your...indiscretion, does he? I'm sure he took it quite well." Steiger gazed at Newkirk with amusement. _

"'_E forgives me," Newkirk replied defiantly._

"_Does he?" Steiger's amusement grew. "I'm very happy to hear that. But, maybe we should let your colonel speak for himself."_

_Newkirk turned his head and spotted Hogan once again chained to the wall next to him. _

"_Oh, Newkirk," Hogan lamented, "How could you do this to me? To us? To the operation?"_

"_Colonel, I…" Newkirk looked devastated, "I didn't mean to 'urt anyone, you 'ave to believe me…"_

"_Believe you? How can I ever believe you again?" Hogan cried out, "You betrayed me; you betrayed us all!"_

"_No, colonel, I didn't," Newkirk exclaimed, "I'd never betray you!"_

_Steiger chuckled. "Well, well, Corporal, it appears that your colonel is not ready to forgive you, after all. But don't worry; I'll take care of him for you." He turned his head and yelled, "Guards!"_

_Suddenly Rolf and Dietrich appeared next to Hogan, and unchained him from the wall. They grabbed his arms and pulled him roughly to the table in the center of the room. Then they forced him to lie on the table, strapped his arms and legs down securely, and stepped away, smiling to each other._

_Newkirk watched, growing more terrified by the second. Then his gaze shifted from Hogan to Steiger. "No, please, you can't 'urt 'im," he pleaded, "I'm the one, what did it; I'm the one, what stole from Wilson. Please, let 'im go!"_

"_Tsk, tsk, now, Corporal Newkirk, we've been over and over this. You still need to learn that what you do affects those around you; especially those closest to you." Steiger then walked over to the table and looked back at him, a cruel smile on his face. "Just remember, this is all your fault; you brought this on, yourself. Your punishment is to watch me kill Colonel Hogan…and then perhaps I'll kill you!" He started laughing hysterically, and raised his hands over the table. Only this time he didn't have a scalpel; this time his own hands had sprouted claws that were protruding from his fingers…each one two inches long, and razor sharp._

_Newkirk was frozen in terror; he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak. All he could do was watch helplessly as Steiger paused for a moment longer, and then brought his hands down; the claws on the ends of his fingers ripping into Hogan's flesh. Hogan screamed, which brought Newkirk out of his paralysis. He sucked in his breath and let out a scream of his own, matching the one that was coming from his colonel. _

"_Newkirk!" Hogan cried out his name as Steiger lifted his blood-covered hands. Then the former SS Major, still laughing maniacally, plunged his claws into Hogan again._

"_NOOOOO!" was the only coherent word that Newkirk could manage to yell, before he started screaming again, himself. _

_Even with the noise Newkirk was making, he could still hear Hogan's voice, shouting, "Newkirk! Newkirk!"_

"Newkirk! Wake up!" Hogan exclaimed as he shook Newkirk's shoulder roughly. "You're having a nightmare!" _And a real doozy, by the sound of it! _"C'mon, Newkirk, open your eyes!"

Newkirk's eyes popped open, but they were filled with terror, and seemed to be focused somewhere else. Hogan kept shaking him until at last Newkirk looked at him with recognition. "Colonel?" He uttered hoarsely, his voice worn out from screaming, "Oh, Colonel, you're alive! I'm sorry, gov'nor, I'm so sorry, I never wanted to 'urt anyone…" A single tear ran down his cheek as his voice trailed off; the final image from his nightmare still vividly imprinted in his mind.

"Hey, it's okay," Hogan replied reassuringly, "I'm here, and very much alive. You just had a bad dream."

"A dream?" Newkirk echoed, looking confused, "Oh, right, a dream," he said as his senses finally returned. He blinked a few times, and then shifted like he wanted to try to sit up. Hogan reached out to help him, and as soon as Newkirk was upright, he sat down next to him.

Once Newkirk was in a sitting position, he started to feel funny again. The anxiety, which had never completely left, re-emerged with a vengeance. The dizziness started in on him as well, and he felt a little shakier than before. But now there was something new…two things, actually. His brain felt fuzzy, like he had cotton or something stuffed in there and his thoughts were having difficulty finding their way through, and his stomach didn't feel so good. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but it only made the dizziness, and his stomach, worse.

Hogan watched him, his concern growing. He noticed right away that Newkirk was trembling, and his color looked a little off. "How are you feeling, Newkirk?" He asked him, already knowing the answer.

Newkirk looked back, trying to focus on Hogan. "Bloody awful," he replied, then asked, "'Ow long was I asleep, Colonel?"

"About an hour," Hogan told him. "Not long enough."

Newkirk's nightmare flashed through his mind and he shuddered. "Well, if you ask me, it was too bloody long!"

Just then they heard footsteps coming toward the room, and then the door was unlocked. As it opened, Rolf and Dietrich came rushing in, guns drawn. "What was all that noise?" Rolf asked in his thick German accent.

"What noise?" Hogan asked, feigning ignorance.

"It sounded like screaming," Rolf answered.

"I didn't hear any screaming," Hogan replied, then turned to Newkirk, "Did you hear screaming?"

"No, sir, I didn't hear screamin'," Newkirk responded.

Rolf's eyes narrowed. "I know what I heard!" He shouted angrily, then a cold smile formed on his face. "But it does not matter; no one will hear you, anyway. And you will be doing a lot more screaming very soon!" Then he looked at Dietrich, and they both chuckled. As they turned to leave, Rolf shot back, "You should get some sleep, Ja? You don't have much time left." And then they were gone.

Once their footsteps had faded, Newkirk looked at Hogan and sighed, "Colonel, what am I goin' to do when Steiger shows up? I can't hide this…" He glanced down at himself, bringing attention to the fact that he was now noticeably shaking, and then back to Hogan.

Hogan nodded slightly, understanding what he was referring to. He also noticed that Newkirk was starting to breathe a little faster again. "I don't know, Newkirk," he said worriedly, "But I'm sure Steiger's going to know something's wrong with you." Then he frowned, "If only you hadn't taken those pills…"

"I know, Colonel," Newkirk replied dejectedly, "You 'ave no idea 'ow sorry I am for doin' that."

Hogan let out a sigh of his own. "Me, too."

* * * * * *

Kinch was down in the tunnel, monitoring the radio, when the false bottom bunk suddenly lifted, and Carter poked his head through the opening. "It's almost time for roll call, Kinch!" He called down to him.

"Coming," Kinch called back, and took off his headphones. Here it was morning already, and there was still no word from the Underground. He heaved a sigh, and then got up and slowly climbed the ladder to the barracks, dreading what they were going to have to do now.

"Raus, raus!" Schultz called out as he barged through the barracks door. Everyone grumbled while they scrambled to finish getting dressed. When they were ready, Schultz herded them outside, and once they were finished lining up, began his count. When he got to the end, he immediately noticed that Hogan and Newkirk weren't there.

"Where are Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk?" He asked LeBeau, who was the next man in line.

"They're not here, Schultzie," LeBeau answered.

"I know they're not here," Schultz said, his frustration growing, "Where are they?"

"I think they left!" Carter shouted from the back row.

Schultz frowned at him. "What do you mean, 'they left'?"

"He means they're gone, Schultz," Kinch now spoke up, "They escaped."

"They escaped?" Schultz repeated, his eyes widening, "When did this happen?"

"Sometime last night," Kinch informed him, "Newkirk, he got homesick, and took off. The Colonel was worried something might happen to him, and went out to look for him."

Schultz looked both angry and scared at the same time. "Oh, you know I'm going to have to report this to Kommandant Klink!"

Kinch nodded, "We know."

* * * * * *

Hogan was pacing the cell when they heard footsteps once again approaching the room where they were being held. He stopped and looked over at Newkirk, who had been sitting on the cot, leaning back against the wall for the past hour. He knew that Newkirk was in no condition for the upcoming confrontation, but, try as he might to come up with a solution, he realized there was nothing he could do about it. That's what had set him to pacing in the first place; his frustration over the fact that he couldn't protect Newkirk, or figure a way out of their current predicament.

Newkirk felt terrible. His symptoms had gotten noticeably worse since the former guards had left. He was shaky, dizzy, his heart was beating a little faster, his anxiety was the highest it had ever been, and his stomach wasn't at all happy. Not to mention he was breathing a bit faster again, and his brain wasn't cooperating at all. He'd tried closing his eyes, but that just made his stomach more upset. So he sat there, trying desperately to think of something, anything else that would take his mind off of what he was going through, but it wasn't working. He heard the footsteps at the same time as Hogan, and looked at him; fear evident in his eyes.

The door was unlocked, and as it swung open, Rolf and Dietrich entered first, their guns once again at the ready. Steiger followed in behind them, and glanced slowly back and forth between Hogan and Newkirk. "I trust you two were able to get some rest," he said pleasantly, and then pointed at Hogan, motioning to his men.

Rolf and Dietrich approached Hogan, and grabbed him by the arms. They led him over to the brick wall where the embedded shackles hung, and, raising his hands, clamped a manacle tightly around both of his wrists. Then they came back to get Newkirk.

"Get up!" Rolf barked at the Englishman. Newkirk looked at him, and then scooted forward. Rolf impatiently grabbed his arm, hauling him roughly to his feet. Then Dietrich stepped behind him to unlock the cuffs that he'd been wearing since he'd been caught. Newkirk, grateful to be free from his metal bracelets, brought his arms forward, wincing at the soreness of his muscles, not only in his arms, but also his shoulders. His relief was short-lived; however, when the men pulled him over to the wall and chained him up next to Hogan. Then they walked back over to Steiger.

"You may leave now," Steiger told them. Rolf and Dietrich nodded and left the room, closing the door behind them.

Steiger looked at his prisoners for a few moments, scrutinizing them, and then slowly stepped closer, until he was standing equidistant in front of them.

"Well, well, I must say, gentlemen, that this day has been a long time coming." Steiger began, "I cannot begin to tell you what a pleasure it is for me to have my dream fulfilled. Ever since you two left me for dead, I have been planning for this very moment."

"So, how did you survive, anyway?" Hogan interjected.

Steiger smiled. "My guards, Colonel Hogan; my guards are very loyal to me. After they saw you and your corporal leave, they rushed into the room and stopped the bleeding as best they could. Then they took me to the nearest hospital, where, fortunately, the doctor was able to save my life."

"I've got to admit, I'm surprised, considering how many bullets you had in you," Hogan remarked.

Steiger's eyes darkened for a split-second, then his expression once again took on a sort of forced pleasantry. "What luck it was for me; then, that none of them hit any vital organs, wouldn't you say, Colonel?" he replied.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it luck," Hogan answered, "More like, inefficiency."

"Inefficiency?"

"Yeah, my inefficiency at making sure you were dead." Hogan stated; a small, satisfied twinkle emanating from his eyes.

Steiger's face clouded. "Colonel Hogan, You are not in a position to antagonize me. I assure you, you will regret it if you do."

"Major, my only regret is that I let myself and my corporal get taken prisoner by you. How did you set yourself up as an Underground agent, anyway?"

Steiger now smiled. "It wasn't as difficult as you might imagine. One of my men, Dietrich, has a cousin who works for the Underground. He was able to convince him that he was interested in joining, and when his cousin arrived for a visit, I was able to persuade him to tell me everything he knew."

"You tortured him," Hogan replied, disgustedly.

"I urged him," Steiger corrected, "He had quite a lot of information about your organization, as it turns out. He even knew that you had an English corporal that could open locks and safes."

"And that's why you set up all those missions…so that I would have to bring Newkirk, and you could show yourself to him."

"Bravo, Colonel!" Steiger exclaimed, looking pleased, "And you fell right into my trap…" He looked over at Newkirk, who was just staring straight ahead. "You haven't said much, have you, Corporal Newkirk?"

Newkirk glared at him. "What do you want me to say?" He retorted.

Steiger eyed him, studying him for a few moments. "Are you all right, Corporal?" He finally asked.

"I'm fine; why wouldn't I be?" Newkirk responded, a note of irritation in his voice.

Steiger stepped closer. "You don't look fine, Corporal, in fact, you don't look well at all." He had noticed Newkirk's tremors, and he could also see that Newkirk was pale, and breathing somewhat rapidly.

"Considerin' the circumstances, it shouldn't be all that bloody 'ard to figure out why," Newkirk snapped.

"Why, Corporal Newkirk, you're on something, aren't you?" Steiger exclaimed, an excited glee emanating from his voice.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Newkirk responded.

Steiger grinned. "Oh, this is turning out to be much better than I could have imagined! Let me think; what could it be that is causing you discomfort…"

"Nothin', I'm fine!" Newkirk yelled.

"Yeah, he's just tired…you try sitting down here all night with handcuffs on!" Hogan piped up.

Steiger ignored them both as he contemplated. Finally his eyes lit up, and he exclaimed, "You've been taking something to help you sleep, haven't you? I can't tell you how flattered I am!"

"What? You're daft!" Newkirk shouted.

"I am, am I?" Steiger moved closer until his face was directly in front of Newkirk's. "I am a doctor, you know," he said, "And I can recognize withdrawal symptoms when I see them. I'd say you've been taking a barbiturate of some kind."

"What?" Hogan shouted, "Look, I don't know where you're coming up with this stuff, but Newkirk's definitely not…"

"That's enough, Colonel!" Steiger interrupted him. "You can't cover for him; I know the truth." Steiger smiled and reached up, stroking his hand lightly across Newkirk's cheek. Newkirk pulled away, bringing his head up flush against the wall behind him. "Yes," Steiger purred, staring at him intensely, "You've just made this so much more fun…for me."

* * * * * *

"Repoooort!" Klink yelled as he strode purposely across the compound, heading straight for Sergeant Schultz.

Schultz swallowed hard. He knew what was coming. "Kommandant, I have to report that two prisoners are missing!"

Klink stared at Schultz for a moment, as though trying to believe he hadn't heard him correctly. Then his anger found its way to his face, and he shouted, "What?"

"Kommandant, two of the prisoners are…"

"I heard you, Schultz! Which prisoners are missing?"

"Corporal Newkirk, and…" Schultz swallowed hard again, "Colonel Hogan."

"What?" Klink shouted again, "Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk are missing? Well, don't just stand there; sound the alarm! Release the dogs!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" Schultz exclaimed, then he snapped to attention and saluted. When Klink returned the salute, he dropped his hand and headed toward the guard station.

As the cacophony rose around the camp from the shouts of the guards and the alarm siren going off, Klink turned to look at the line of prisoners. His eyes lit on LeBeau, and he shouted, "You! What do you know about this, Cockroach?"

LeBeau shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing, sir," he replied.

Klink scowled at him and glanced around at the rest of the men. "What about the rest of you?"

Kinch and Carter glanced quickly at each other, then turned to Klink and simultaneously exclaimed, "We know nothing!"

Klink glared at them for a moment. Then he slapped his riding crop under his arm and, with a resounding, "Hmfph!" turned and stomped back to his office, yelling, "Dismissed!" along the way.

As the men filed back into the barracks, Carter and LeBeau looked at Kinch. "Now what?" LeBeau asked

"Now we wait to hear from the Underground," Kinch answered.

"Isn't there anything we can do, Kinch?" Carter looked disappointed.

Kinch sighed. "I wish there was. But, since we don't know where to even begin looking, we can't risk getting caught traipsing around out there. Besides, the camp's guards are going to be all over the place."

"Well," LeBeau huffed, "The Underground just better find them soon!"

"I'll second that," Kinch replied.

Carter nodded, "Me, too!"


	11. The games begin

Hogan was furious. Furious that Steiger had survived, furious that he'd figured out about Newkirk's withdrawal from the sleeping pills, and furious that he was going to use that to make things even worse for his corporal. But most of all, he was furious that he couldn't do anything to stop him. He clenched his jaw when he saw Steiger touch Newkirk's face, wishing with all his being he could walk over there and pull that psycho away, and belt him right in the face. Then maybe get a hold of a gun and aim it right between his eyes… He shut his own eyes tightly for a second, and then opened them again, forcing himself to relax. _This isn't helping,_ he thought to himself, _I've got to get him away from Newkirk. Maybe if I can draw his attention back to me…_

"Hey, Steiger," Hogan called to him, barely succeeding at keeping his anger out of his voice, "What kind of doctor are you supposed to be, anyway?"

Steiger lowered his hand from Newkirk's cheek, and, after staring at the Englishman for a moment longer, turned his head to look at Hogan. "I am a surgeon, Colonel," he stated matter-of-factly, "A profession that requires a great deal of intelligence and skill."

"How come they let _you_ in, then?" Hogan quipped.

Steiger's eyes darkened. "You are treading on thin ice, Colonel Hogan…"

"You can't be much of a surgeon, can you?" Hogan interrupted, "Or you'd still have a job."

"…very thin ice. I would advise you to be quiet, before you say something you will surely regret."

Hogan smirked, ignoring Steiger's warning, "I wouldn't even let you operate on my dog!"

In two quick steps, Steiger was standing in front of Hogan. "You will pay for that, Colonel!" He shouted angrily, "Very soon you will be begging me to spare your life!"

"How do you know it won't be the other way around?" Hogan's smirk now turned into a full-blown smile.

"How dare you!" Steiger was positively livid. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his trusty scalpel, then held it up in front of Hogan's face. "I will teach you some manners right now!"

"No!" Newkirk yelled, "Leave 'im alone!"

Hogan inwardly groaned. _Dammit, Newkirk, keep your mouth shut! _He stared at Steiger, forcing himself to look as unconcerned as possible, hoping to keep the doctor's interest on him.

Steiger stared back, seething, his hand poised and ready to create some interesting designs on Hogan's face with his favorite surgical instrument, when a thought suddenly struck him. _He's baiting me! He's trying to draw me away from Newkirk. _He slowly lowered his hand and smiled at Hogan. "Ah, my dear Colonel, I can see right through your little game. You don't like the attention I've been giving your corporal, do you?"

Hogan started to inwardly panic. Steiger had figured it out, and he had a pretty good idea what was going to happen next. Somehow, he had to keep him away from Newkirk. In the most nonchalant tone he could muster, he replied, "No, that's not it at all. I just wanted to tell you you're a quack!"

Steiger smiled wider. "You're very good, Colonel Hogan. But then, you would have to be, wouldn't you; to succeed in your…profession." He chuckled at that, and then moved to step back over to Newkirk.

"Look, just leave him alone," Hogan said, trying not to sound like he was pleading, "You can't blame him for shooting you; I was the one who told him to do it. Hell, I'd do it myself, right now, if I could."

"I'm sure you would, Colonel. But then I wouldn't be able to play _my_ game, would I?" Steiger once again positioned himself in front of Newkirk. As he gazed at him, he shook his head slightly. "I must say, corporal, I think you're getting worse," he murmured with mock sympathy. "Maybe I can help you take your mind off your discomfort." He raised the scalpel to Newkirk's face, studying the corporal's eyes intensely as he did so.

Newkirk couldn't mask the terror he was feeling. Terror, on top of his anxiety, his tremors, his dizziness, and all the other symptoms he was suffering from. He was having trouble concentrating, but he understood what Steiger was planning to do; just like he'd known what the doctor was going to do to Hogan, and he couldn't, he just couldn't let him. That's why he'd cried out, and now Steiger was in front of him again, brandishing that horrible scalpel in front of his face. All he could do was stare at him, wide-eyed; stare and wait for the pain.

The corners of Steiger's mouth turned up slightly as he recognized the terror that was emanating out of Newkirk's eyes. He pressed the flat steel blade of the scalpel against his cheek, causing the corporal's eyes to widen even more.

"Leave him alone!" Hogan shouted, straining at the chains that were holding his arms.

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that, Colonel," Steiger replied, pressing the blade a little harder against Newkirk's cheek. He was rewarded by a slight moan escaping from the Englishman's mouth.

"Let him go, I'm warning you…" Hogan growled menacingly at him. His fury at what Steiger was doing was quickly taking him over.

"I could make a nice, permanent design on your face," Steiger remarked softly to Newkirk, "Something to remember me by…"

"Get your filthy hands off him!" Hogan yelled; his face red with rage.

Steiger's expression clouded, and he turned to look at Hogan, pulling the scalpel away from Newkirk's face as he did so. "Colonel, I must insist that you be quiet, now. You are becoming much too distracting."

"Leave him alone, and I'll shut up," Hogan replied angrily.

"That's enough, Colonel," Steiger shot back. "I think it's time for me to show you what happens when you try my patience." He returned his gaze to Newkirk, and positioned the scalpel on Newkirk's upper chest, directly over his collar bone. He pressed it against his shirt, and, with one swift movement, brought his hand down, slicing neatly through the material. He grabbed the cut ends of the shirt and pulled it apart, exposing Newkirk's chest. There wasn't a scratch on him.

Both Hogan and Newkirk let out a breath they didn't realize they were holding.

"You see, Colonel?" A simple demonstration of my skill. I am very precise with my incisions. Let me show you once more…"

Steiger once again pressed his scalpel against Newkirk's collar bone. He paused for a moment, watching as the corporal's face filled with terror, and then brought his hand down once more, only much more slowly this time, eliciting another moan out of Newkirk. A thin red trail followed the blade, and he didn't stop until he'd almost reached Newkirk's navel. Then he drew his hand away; a satisfied look on his face.

Hogan watched in horror as the line became redder, Newkirk's blood oozing out of the freshly made cut. It started to form drops that slid down his chest, dripping to the floor below. He wanted to scream at Steiger to stop it, but now he was afraid that if he did, the doctor would make another cut, and another, and soon his corporal, the man he'd sworn to himself to protect, would be dead. So he bit his tongue, and waited for Steiger to speak.

Steiger stood looking at Newkirk for a moment, admiring his handiwork, then turned to Hogan. "What, no comment, Colonel? Did you see how precise that was? Just the right amount of pressure…not enough to cause too much damage, but enough to leave a scar," he stated, and then smiled. "My skill is unsurpassed, wouldn't you agree?"

Hogan realized something at that point; Steiger was insane. Oh, he already knew that after what the former SS Major had put Newkirk through, but it hadn't really sunk in until just this moment. He'd been trying to reason with someone who couldn't be reasoned with. Perhaps his best bet was to play along. "Yes, you're right, you are very skillful," he replied.

Steiger was positively elated. "Ah, I knew my demonstration would convince you of my talent. Not many doctors can cut with the precision that I can. Of course, I've had years of practice."

"Oh, I can tell," Hogan remarked. He glanced at Newkirk, who was breathing rapidly, and turning an alarming shade of white. "You know, if you want to make this last longer, maybe you should let him rest, give him some time to recuperate…and I think we both could use something to eat."

Steiger stared at him, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then it lifted, and he nodded. "You may be right, Colonel. I'm glad to see that you are finally cooperating." Then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I could do with some rest, myself. I am still recovering, you see, and I grow fatigued rather quickly." He took another deep breath, and then turned and headed toward the door. "Yes, I need to rest," he uttered, more to himself, "I'll send my men in to tend to you." He opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him.

"Newkirk!" Hogan called out as he heard Steiger's footsteps fade, "Newkirk, are you all right?"

Newkirk blinked a few times and looked at Hogan, trying to focus on him. "What?" he finally uttered.

"Are you all right, Newkirk?" Hogan repeated worriedly.

"I think so," Newkirk answered slowly, "Blimey, me chest 'urts; that Steiger's off 'is nut, 'e is."

Hogan nodded. "Yes, he is."

Suddenly the door opened, and Rolf and Dietrich entered. Rolf walked up to Newkirk and removed the manacles from his wrists, while Dietrich kept his gun aimed on the corporal. As soon as Newkirk was free, Rolf dragged him over to the cot and practically pushed him down on it. Then he went over to release Hogan. Once the Colonel was free, Rolf rejoined his partner, and they backed out of the room, keeping their guns trained on the prisoners.

The door hadn't even shut all the way before Hogan rushed over to Newkirk. He looked at the cut that ran the entire length of Newkirk's chest, and glanced around the room frantically to find something that he could use to staunch the trickle of blood that was still oozing out. In desperation, he picked up the thin blanket from the cot, and, after helping Newkirk lie down, pressed it firmly against his chest. Newkirk groaned, but didn't protest. Hogan sat down on the side of the cot and continued to apply pressure, while studying Newkirk worriedly. He'd never seen him look so pale, or so…out of it. _Ah, Newkirk, how the hell am I supposed to help you, when I don't even know what the withdrawal effects are doing to you? And how am I supposed to protect you from that nutcase? _He sighed in frustration, wondering what was in store for them next, and if there was any chance his men or the Underground would find them in time.

* * * * *

"Anything, Kinch?" LeBeau asked as he handed the sergeant a fresh cup of coffee. He'd made another pot after breakfast, and had decided to bring some down to Kinch, who'd been monitoring the radio since morning roll call ended.

Kinch removed his headphones, took the cup from LeBeau gratefully, and, after taking a small sip, shook his head and replied, "No, nothing yet, Louis."

LeBeau frowned, "What's taking them so long?"

"Well, they probably don't know where to begin looking, any more than we do," Kinch answered. When he saw the anger that was creeping into LeBeau's face, he added, "Hey, I know you're worried; so am I. But the Underground's doing everything they can to…"

Suddenly the radio crackled, and Kinch hurriedly set down his cup and replaced his headphones. He listened for a moment, nodding briefly at LeBeau when the Frenchman mouthed, "Underground?", and then grabbed his pencil and notebook. "Yes, this is Papa Bear, go ahead Rose Red." He started writing, and it was a full minute or more before he stopped, and asked the agent on the other end to repeat the message. As he waited for the reply, he looked at LeBeau and whispered, "Carter", then turned his attention back to the radio.

LeBeau understood immediately. He walked over to the ladder and climbed up to the barracks, returning a few minutes later with Carter. As they approached Kinch, LeBeau called out, "Well, what did they say?"

"You're not going to believe this," Kinch said, looking at his notebook, "There's a guy named Gunter who works for the Underground. You two might remember him; we've run into him a few times…"

"Yeah, I remember him," Carter interjected, "Nice guy!"

"Nice kid, more like," LeBeau stated, "He's only, what, eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Nineteen, I think," Kinch replied, then continued, "Anyway, his cousin is one of the two guards who was reported missing in the same fire that Steiger was supposed to have died in. According to the agent I spoke to, someone matching the description of the guard visited Gunter a few weeks ago, and took him somewhere. When Gunter was returned, he was covered with cuts and bruises, and has refused to talk to anyone about what happened. The agent isn't sure, but he thinks Gunter might know where Steiger is holed up."

LeBeau's eyes widened. "Well, don't just sit there, Kinch, let's go talk to him!"

Kinch's eyebrow shot up. "In broad daylight, Louis?" he responded, "With all those guards out there looking for Colonel Hogan and Newkirk?"

LeBeau opened his mouth, intending to argue with him, when he realized Kinch was right. "Well, what can we do, then?" He asked with a note of desperation in his voice.

The three men stared at each other for a moment, when Carter suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, maybe we can dress up as Luftwaffe guards, and sneak out of here! They'll think we're just looking for the colonel and Newkirk, same as them!"

Kinch brought his hand up and stroked his chin, appearing to contemplate Carter's suggestion. "That's not a bad idea," he said at last, "But we'll have to wait until tonight; there should be less chance of us getting caught when it's dark."

"Wait until tonight?" LeBeau exclaimed, "And meanwhile, Steiger's got Newkirk and the colonel, and he's doing who-knows-what to them!"

"You have a better idea, Louis?" Kinch challenged.

Once again LeBeau looked like he was going to go off on a tirade, when he caught sight of Kinch's expression and relented. "You are right, mon ami," he replied dejectedly, "I just hate the thought of them being at the mercy of that filthy boche, Steiger!"

"So do I, Louis," Kinch replied, "And that's why we're going to talk to Gunter tonight, and find out where they are."

"What if Gunter won't tell us?" Carter now asked worriedly.

"I think he will," Kinch said, "Especially when we tell him that Colonel Hogan and Newkirk's lives are at stake."

"And also that we're going to take care of Steiger, so he can't hurt anyone anymore," LeBeau added.

The men looked at each other, nodding in determination. No matter what it took, they were going to get Hogan and Newkirk back, alive.

* * * * * *

"Colonel, could you ease up a bit?" Newkirk uttered, "I can't catch me breath!"

"Oh, sorry, Newkirk," Hogan replied, letting up a little on the pressure he was applying to the corporal's wound. He hadn't realized he'd been pressing so hard. "Is that better?"

"Yes, sir," Newkirk said, after taking a few deep breaths, "That's much better."

Hogan nodded, failing to keep the worry out of his voice with his next question, "How are you feeling now, Newkirk?"

Newkirk stared at Hogan for a moment. "I'm not as dizzy, and me stomach's settled down a bit," he finally replied, "I think lyin' 'ere is 'elpin'."

"That's good," Hogan said, noting that Newkirk's color had improved somewhat; although, he also noticed that the Englishman was still trembling, and breathing a little faster than normal. "You just rest for now," he added, and then pulled part of the blanket back to see how his wound was doing. It looked like the bleeding had more or less stopped, but he replaced the section of blanket that he'd raised, and continued to keep pressure on it, anyway; a little longer wouldn't hurt.

Just then the door opened, and the two ex-guards entered. Rolf kept his gun aimed at Hogan, while Dietrich, carrying two trays, walked over to the wall opposite the cot and leaned down, setting them on the floor. Then he straightened up, and headed back out the door, followed a second later by Rolf.

When they were gone, Hogan got up and went over to see what they'd brought. Each tray had a bowl of what looked like beef broth with a few small pieces of potatoes and carrots in it, and slice of brown bread. There was also a glass of water included on each one. Hogan grabbed one of the glasses, and took it over to the cot. As he sat down, he said, "You must be thirsty, Newkirk. Here, I've got some water for you." He slid his hand underneath Newkirk's head, gently pulling him up while bringing the glass to his lips, momentarily forgetting that the corporal was no longer in handcuffs.

Newkirk winced as the pain from the incision on his chest intensified with the movement. He reached up to grab the glass, and as Hogan let go, he wondered briefly why the colonel hadn't just handed it to him. He was going to just take a sip, but when the cool water passed into his mouth, he suddenly realized how thirsty he was, and drank nearly half the glass before stopping to catch his breath.

When Hogan saw Newkirk reach for the glass, he instantly remembered about the cuffs, and he also instantly noticed Newkirk's wrist; it had been rubbed raw by the metal, and there were several cuts circling it, visible under the smeared blood that was wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet. Alarmed, he glanced down at Newkirk's other wrist; it looked identical. He inwardly sighed, knowing there was little he could do about it at the moment.

Newkirk raised the glass once more and downed the rest of the water, then handed it back to Hogan, looking at him gratefully. Hogan lowered Newkirk's head back down on the cot, and was about to get up to return the glass to the tray, when instead, he asked, "You feel up to eating? You could use some food, too."

Now that Newkirk's stomach had calmed down, he suddenly realized that he was hungry. "I think you're right, Colonel," he replied, as the smell of the broth reached his nose, and then started to sit up.

Hogan slid his arm under Newkirk's back to help, inwardly cringing when the corporal let out a groan. Newkirk grabbed Hogan's arm, unconsciously squeezing it tightly as he reached a sitting position.

"Cor!" Newkirk exclaimed as he let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Are you all right, Newkirk?" Hogan asked, looking at him with concern.

"Yes, sir," Newkirk replied, grimacing, "It's just this ruddy cut down me chest…it's a bit sore, is all."

_That's probably an understatement! _Hogan thought, and then got up to let Newkirk swing his legs over the side of the cot. When the Englishman was ready, Hogan went over and grabbed one of the trays and brought it back, placing it gently on Newkirk's lap. Then he went back and picked up the other one, setting it on his own lap as he sat down next to Newkirk.

They ate in relative silence, Newkirk remarking briefly that the food was much better than what he'd been given at the SS facility. Hogan figured it was because Steiger wanted them to regain some of their strength so they would last longer, allowing him more time to play out his sick, twisted games; but he didn't tell Newkirk that. When they were finished, Hogan put the trays back, and helped Newkirk lie down again. He lifted the blanket that was still covering the incision; the cut appeared to have clotted completely. He lay the blanket back down gently to keep the wound covered. Then he told Newkirk to close his eyes and try to get what rest he could, while he began to pace the cell, wondering and worrying what was in store for them when Steiger made his next appearance.


	12. Another session

Newkirk lay there on the cot, his eyes closed, listening to Hogan's footsteps as he paced back and forth. He was actually feeling a little better; the food and the rest had helped. But he couldn't sleep; in fact, the way he felt right now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to sleep again. He still had his anxiety, of course, and the tremors, and the dizziness; only the latter had eased up a little since he'd been lying down. But his thoughts were still having trouble…it was like they were far away, and had to traverse a great distance to reach the forefront of his brain.

And then there was his chest. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was there; a dull ache underlying almost constant sharp, stinging jabs every time he moved or breathed. But it wasn't the pain that troubled him the most, it was the look he'd seen in Steiger's eyes as the doctor had carved that line down his torso; it had scared the hell out of him. Steiger wasn't a man, he was convinced of that. He was a demon, let loose on Earth to torment as many souls as possible before someone could end his terrifying existence. And he and Hogan; they were just his latest quarry – a game, a pastime, an amusement – something to toy with, like a cat cornering its prey; batting at it for a while before pouncing, as if to escalate its terror before going in for the kill.

He let out a sigh, and immediately regretted it as a fresh wave of stabbing pain ran through the length of the incision. He grimaced and opened his eyes, turning his head slightly to watch Hogan, who was still following some invisible path back and forth across the floor, and found himself wondering what the colonel was thinking. Was he trying to come up with a plan to get them out of there, perhaps? Or hoping for the rest of the guys to rescue them? Would they even be able to find them? And even if they did; would they arrive in time? He was about to sigh again, when he remembered his earlier experience with that, and stopped himself just in time. Well, whatever was going to happen, somehow he knew it was going to get worse before it got better…if it got better at all.

Hogan was indeed entertaining the questions that Newkirk had considered, and so far hadn't come up with a solution. Could he get Newkirk and himself out of there? It didn't seem likely; not with those two guards that had the guns constantly pointed at them. Even if he could hide behind the door and surprise one of them, the chances that the other one would get off a shot were too great; especially since it could hit Newkirk. Would the fellas back at camp find a way to rescue them? Without knowing where they were, and being hampered by time constraints, or in other words, roll calls? Again, unlikely. The most he could hope for at this point, unfortunately, was to try to take the pressure off Newkirk, and somehow get Steiger to concentrate on him, instead. He just had to figure out some way of doing that. As he rounded the corner near the door, he glanced over at the cot and noticed Newkirk looking at him. He changed course and walked over to his corporal.

"I was hoping you were sleeping," Hogan said quietly as he sat down on the edge of the cot.

"Sorry, gov'nor, I don't think that's goin' to 'appen'…short of you knockin' me out, that is," Newkirk replied, grinning at him. Then he scrunched his face for a split second as another stab of pain hit him.

Hogan's expression instantly changed to concern. "Are you okay, Newkirk?"

"Yes, sir," Newkirk answered as the pain subsided, "It's this cut," he said, glancing briefly down at his chest, "It 'urts when I move…"

"I'd be surprised if it didn't," Hogan interjected, and then, deciding that now was as good a time as any to bring it up, he added, "Newkirk, I want to talk to you about something."

"Yes, sir?" Newkirk replied.

"When Steiger comes back, I'm gonna try to draw his attention to me, to get him to back off of you."

Newkirk's eyes widened, "What?" he exclaimed, then shook his head, "No, gov'nor, you can't, you know what 'e'll do to you…"

"No worse than he's done to you," Hogan cut in, "Besides, I'm in better shape right now. Trust me, Newkirk, I can take it."

Newkirk reached up and grabbed Hogan's arm. "No, Colonel, I can't let you do it," he replied, staring at him with grim determination, "I won't let you do it!"

Hogan's expression clouded over. "You don't have a choice, Newkirk; in case you've forgotten, I outrank you."

"Don't you bloody pull rank on me!" Newkirk shouted angrily, "I'm not goin' to let that madman cut into you…not if I can 'elp it!"

Hogan looked at him, momentarily shocked. Then he quickly snapped out of it and shouted back, "You'll do what I tell you, and that's an order!"

Newkirk just glared at him.

It took Hogan a moment to get his temper under control, and then he stated more calmly, "Now, when Steiger returns, I'm gonna talk to him, try to keep his attention on me as much as possible, and no matter what happens, I want you to keep your mouth shut, got it?" When Newkirk didn't reply, he said a little louder, "Got it?"

"I won't do it!" Newkirk yelled.

"Newkirk!"

"Colonel, what 'ave I told you about my nightmares? It's always you on that bleedin' table, and Steiger leanin' over you, guttin' you like a ruddy fish! 'E's goin' to do it, too…I just know that's what 'e's plannin, once 'e's done playin' with us. And now you're askin' me to stand there and watch 'im cut you, and not say anythin'…well, I can't, don't you understand? I've already seen it too many times; if I 'ave to watch it for real…" Newkirk stopped and shook his head vigorously, despite the pain it was causing him on his chest. "No, sir. You can lock me up, you can send me 'ome, you can even add this to my court-martial – if by some chance we make it out of 'ere alive – but I will not keep me mouth shut!"

Hogan was taken aback; he'd never seen Newkirk blatantly disobey a direct order like this before! But he'd also never seen this level of utter conviction in him, either. And he could hardly blame him, could he? Not after everything he'd been through, and the horrible dreams that had been plaguing him; not just recently, but when he'd initially returned from the SS facility. He studied Newkirk's eyes; realizing that he wasn't going to win this one. "All right," he finally replied, "I won't ask you to keep your mouth shut. But I'm still going to try to get Steiger to give you a break."

"I can't stop you there, Colonel, but I wish you wouldn't," Newkirk responded, a pleading look in his eyes, "'Ow's it goin' to 'elp us, if we're both a bloody mess?"

"Newkirk, I can't stand by and watch Steiger go after you, either," Hogan replied, sounding frustrated, "I'm sure you can understand that!"

They stared at each other for a few moments, silently conveying to each other what they both already knew. At last Newkirk spoke up. "Yes, sir, I do understand. But, to be honest, I think Steiger's goin' to do what 'e wants, no matter what you say."

Hogan took a deep breath, and sighed heavily. "I think you're right," he said, remembering how angry he'd made Steiger earlier, to take his attention off of Newkirk, and it hadn't worked. Steiger had seen right through him. "But I have to try," he added, determinedly.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Newkirk's face. "I know, gov'nor," he responded softly.

Hogan smiled back, but there was sadness in his eyes. His inability to protect Newkirk was tearing him up inside. Oh, what he wouldn't give for a gun right now…he'd pump a few rounds right into Steiger's twisted brain! Or perhaps chain him up against the wall, and see how he liked being on the business end of that horrible scalpel…_no, _he inwardly shook his head. _I couldn't torture him, even if he deserves it. But that won't stop me from thinking about it! _He reached up and patted Newkirk lightly on his shoulder. "Look, why don't you try to get some sleep?" he suggested as he began to rise, causing Newkirk to let go of his arm.

"I'll try, sir," Newkirk answered, knowing that it was most likely a lost cause, then a thought struck him. "What about you, Colonel? You need to rest, too."

"If I get tired, I'll take a seat against the wall. Trust me; the floor's not that much more uncomfortable than the cots back at camp!" Hogan chuckled.

Newkirk grinned. "You've got me there, sir!" He replied, and then closed his eyes, listening to Hogan's footsteps pick up where they'd left off.

* * * * * *

It was late afternoon when the door opened, and Steiger's henchmen entered, followed by the doctor himself. Steiger appeared to be well rested, and was wearing his lab coat this time. As he glanced around the room, he saw Newkirk stretched out on the cot, and Hogan sitting near the corner, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The colonel had eventually grown tired, and, after plopping down on the floor, had nodded off for a few hours.

"Ah, greetings, gentlemen, I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long." Steiger stated politely, then motioned to his men to chain Hogan up first, just like the last time.

Rolf and Dietrich walked over and hauled Hogan first to his feet, and then over to the wall. When they were done restraining him, they came back for Newkirk, yanking him up roughly off the cot. Newkirk gritted his teeth to keep from groaning from the pain; he wasn't about to give Steiger the satisfaction. After they pulled the Englishman over to the wall, they chained him up.

Steiger once again dismissed his men, and as soon as they were gone, turned to face his prisoners. "Well, Colonel Hogan, I trust you and Corporal Newkirk were able to get some rest," he said, glancing briefly over at Newkirk, and then back to Hogan.

"We're fine, thank you," Hogan replied coolly.

Steiger smiled. "I'm sure you are. Tell me, Colonel, has your corporal here ever told you what my favorite game is, by any chance?"

"I'm guessing it's not checkers."

That brought out a chuckle from Steiger. "No, it's not checkers," he responded, and then grew serious, "Oh, come now, Colonel, he must have mentioned it to you." As he finished speaking, he started to move closer to Newkirk.

"Yes, he told me," Hogan admitted, hoping to draw Steiger over to him.

"I thought so," Steiger replied, stopping in front of Newkirk. He noticed that the corporal's shirt hung on him in pieces; it was still connected around his neck, but the rest of it was split down the middle, hanging wide open. And the incision that he'd made earlier looked like an angry red line running down his torso. He also noticed that Newkirk was still breathing a little fast, and his body was trembling. "Tsk, tsk, still suffering from withdrawal, I see. Well, that's to be expected. You will continue to have symptoms for at least a few more days, did you know that?"

Newkirk didn't say anything; he just stared at Steiger.

"So, what are your plans for us, anyway?" Hogan asked loudly, "You know, I bet Klink knows we're missing by now. He's going to have the Gestapo looking for us very soon."

Steiger glanced over at Hogan. "Why should that concern me? The Gestapo is on my side."

"Oh, really?" Hogan said, "Don't you think they'll find it strange that you've been alive all this time, but you let everyone think you're dead? And how do you think they'll react when they find out about the sensitive information you've passed along to the Allies?"

Steiger's expression flickered confusion for a moment, and then returned to normal. "I shouldn't worry; once they realize I've captured Papa Bear, they won't care how I did it."

"Are you sure about that?" Hogan challenged.

"Oh, you are clever, Colonel," Steiger replied, his eyes narrowing, "You are trying to bait me again, aren't you? But it won't work, I'm afraid. I am alert to your tricks…" He looked back at Newkirk. "Tell me something, Colonel Hogan," he said, "How would you feel about me playing my favorite game with your corporal?"

"Leave him alone!" Hogan blurted out.

Steiger glanced at Hogan, studying him for a moment. "You're very protective of your man, here, I see. I must admit, I find that very interesting." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the dreaded scalpel. "What would you do to persuade me to leave Corporal Newkirk alone?"

"Whatever you want," Hogan replied without hesitation.

A slow, evil smile took over Steiger's face. "I thought that's what you might say," he responded, and then his gaze returned to Newkirk as he suddenly pressed the Englishman against the wall, brandishing his scalpel in front of him. "And what would you do, Corporal, to persuade me to leave Colonel Hogan alone?" he asked pointedly.

"Anythin'," Newkirk uttered.

Steiger nodded. "As I suspected. I must say you two have made this almost too easy for me." He brought the surgical blade against Newkirk's chest, resting it lightly against the incision that ran the length of his torso. "I see the cut I made earlier has begun to heal…but don't worry, I can fix that…" He applied pressure with his hand, and began to draw the blade down slowly.

Newkirk cried out in pain, instinctively trying to pull away as much as he was able. But there was nowhere to go; he was already up against the wall. He closed his eyes and moaned loudly as Steiger proceeded to reopen the incision, cutting just a little deeper this time.

"Stop it!" Hogan yelled, "I'm warning you, leave him alone! You want to pick on someone, pick on me!"

Steiger finished, and leaned back to get a good look at his work. The blood that sprang from the fresh incision flowed a little faster this time; sliding down Newkirk's chest more quickly, forming a small puddle on the floor in front of him.

Newkirk glared at Steiger and, despite the pain, shouted, "Why don't you just kill me and 'ave done with it?"

"What fun would that be?" Steiger replied calmly, and then smiled at him. "In fact," he continued, "I know a way to make this even more entertaining. Tell you what," he glanced between Hogan and Newkirk, "I'll let you decide between yourselves who you want me to play my favorite game with. You have until midnight to decide." And with that, he turned and headed out of the room, chuckling to himself along the way.

As soon as Steiger was gone, Newkirk let out a moan, and sagged against his chains. In addition to the searing pain coming from the fresh cut, he was shaking harder, breathing faster, and had broken out into a cold sweat. His fear and anxiety were at an all-time high, and he was becoming terribly dizzy and light-headed.

Hogan looked at Newkirk, consumed with worry. The corporal was shaking, and had become deathly pale; he looked like he might pass out at any moment. "Newkirk," Hogan called out, "Newkirk, hang on; those guards should be in here soon to unchain us…Newkirk, can you hear me?"

"What?" Newkirk answered, his voice trembling.

"I said, hang on," Hogan repeated, "Try taking some slow, deep breaths…"

Newkirk tried to focus on what Hogan was saying, but his voice was slowly fading away. "It 'urts…to breathe…" he mumbled, then his head drooped, and he was out.

"Newkirk!" Hogan yelled, his panic rising, "Newkirk, speak to me!" But it was no use; Newkirk was unconscious. _Ah, dammit, I have to help him, _was the only thought in his head as he tugged at his own chains.

At last the door opened, and Rolf and Dietrich entered. They took one look at Newkirk, and smirked at each other, before going over to unchain him. Then they dragged him over to the cot, and unceremoniously dumped him on it. Dietrich went back to free Hogan's arms, while Rolf kept his gun leveled at the colonel. As they turned to leave, Rolf looked Hogan in the eyes and said, "Don't worry, you will get your turn." He glanced at Newkirk and back to Hogan, a smile plastered across his face. Then he and Dietrich were gone.

Hogan practically ran over to the cot. As he sat down on the edge, his heart nearly broke at the sight that greeted him. Newkirk's chest was covered in blood; it was still oozing out and spreading down his sides. Hogan grabbed the blanket and tried to wipe some of it away, but more blood just trickled out to take its place. The only thing he could do at that point was what he'd done before; cover the wound with the now red-stained blanket, and put pressure on it. Once he had accomplished that, he started talking to him in a desperate voice. "Newkirk, wake up, open your eyes, Steiger's gone now, c'mon, Newkirk, wake up…"

Newkirk's eyes fluttered open. He stared blankly up at the ceiling for a moment, and then turned his head slightly to see Hogan leaning over him. "Wha…what happened?" he uttered quietly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"You passed out," Hogan told him, "Those two goons came and unchained us, and put you here on the cot."

Newkirk just stared at Hogan for a moment. "Oh, right," he finally replied, "We were 'angin' on the wall, weren't we?"

"Yes, we were," Hogan answered, "What's the last thing you remember, Newkirk?"

Newkirk took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. "I remember Steiger, 'e used that bloody scalpel on me again," he said, wincing from the pain. He glanced down to see Hogan pressing the blanket to his chest, and then looked back at him worriedly. "'Ow bad is it, Colonel?"

"Not too bad," Hogan replied, hoping he wasn't lying. "It's barely bleeding."

That seemed to reassure Newkirk a little, then his face took on a disgusted look, "I'm not surprised, gov'nor. Steiger wouldn't make it too deep; 'e can't 'ave me bleedin' to death, now, can 'e? Where's the fun in that?" He spat out sarcastically.

Out of nowhere, the rage that Hogan felt over what Steiger had done to Newkirk suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks, and it was all he could do to nod at the corporal's latest remark. Something dark passed across his eyes for a split-second, and then was gone.

Newkirk noticed. "Are you all right, Colonel?" He asked, growing concerned.

With supreme effort, Hogan squelched his fury, forcing himself to calm down. "I'm fine, Newkirk," he replied, "I just wish I could get my hands on that, that…"

"Me, too, sir," Newkirk interjected. "You know, Colonel, I did 'ear what Steiger said before 'e left; about us choosin' between us, who ends up on the table."

"I was hoping you wouldn't remember that," Hogan said.

"Well, sir," Newkirk continued, "I just wanted to say that I volunteer meself."

"What?" Hogan exclaimed, then shook his head. "No, Newkirk, if anyone's gonna be on that table, it's gonna be me."

"No, Colonel, it should be me; you 'ave to let me do this," Newkirk looked at him determinedly.

Hogan could feel another battle of wills coming on. "This isn't up for debate, Newkirk. I've already made the decision."

"Colonel," Newkirk was about to start arguing, when he decided to change tactics. "Let me ask you somethin'. Suppose Steiger plays 'is game with you, and by some ruddy miracle, I survive. What do you think'll 'appen to me?" He paused for a moment, watching Hogan think about it. "I'll tell you what'll 'appen," he then continued, "I'll end up in the looney bin!"

"You don't know that, Newkirk." Hogan responded.

"Yes, I do. If I 'ave to watch that madman slice you up…" Newkirk slowly shook his head. "You still don't get it, do you? I've already 'ad to watch Steiger do it to you in my dreams…don't let my nightmares become a reality, Colonel!"

Hogan stared at him for a few moments. Finally he replied, "I'll think about it, Newkirk, on one condition…you have to try to get some sleep."

"Fair enough," Newkirk answered, knowing deep down that Hogan wasn't about to change his mind. But it didn't matter; he'd find a way to make Steiger pick him, and spare the colonel's life. He closed his eyes while Hogan sat with him, tending to his wound, and eventually fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

A/N: I would like to thank Deana for an idea she had that I used in this chapter.


	13. The race is on

Hogan sat on the edge of the cot, thankful that Newkirk had finally fallen asleep. He kept up the pressure on Newkirk's cut; enough to stop the blood from trickling out, but not so much as to wake him. Every so often he would lift the blanket, checking to see if the bleeding had stopped, and also to make sure the material wasn't adhering to the wound. At long last it appeared the blood had clotted, so he placed the blanket on top of the sleeping corporal gently, and continued to sit with him, watching over him worriedly while trying to come up with a plan.

Sometime later Newkirk started to stir, letting out a soft moan. Hogan knew what that meant; the Englishman was dreaming again. He glanced at his watch and sighed in frustration; Newkirk had only been asleep for an hour or so. Well, maybe it wouldn't escalate into a nightmare this time. All he could do at this point was watch and wait.

"_Newkirk, you can open your eyes now." Steiger's voice filtered into his ears._

_Newkirk slowly opened his eyes, dreading what he was going to see. Sure enough, there was Hogan on the table, stripped to the waist, his arms and legs strapped down securely. "No!" He yelled, "You were supposed to pick me!"_

"_But your colonel here insisted," Steiger replied in that irritatingly sweet voice of his, "And I simply couldn't refuse…"_

"_No, Colonel, you can't…I won't let you!" Newkirk wailed._

"_It's not your decision," Hogan shouted, "I gave you a direct order!"_

"_Tsk, tsk, such division among the ranks," Steiger quipped. He walked over to where Newkirk was chained up, and brandished his scalpel in front of him. "Are you so eager to take the colonel's place?"_

"_Yes, I'll take 'is place…just please, let 'im go!"_

_Steiger smiled and returned to the table. "You heard him, Colonel Hogan; he is willing to take your place."_

"_Not without my permission!" Hogan yelled._

"_But it's not up to you, is it?" Steiger replied, "You are not in charge here, Colonel. Perhaps I should take Corporal Newkirk up on his offer, after all…"_

"_You keep your hands off him!" _

"_Oh, Colonel, I'm afraid you've become much too predictable. Yes, I think it's time for me to do what I should have done a long time ago." Steiger looked over at Newkirk, "I believe it's your turn…"_

_Newkirk shut his eyes tight, unwilling to watch anymore. He didn't hear anything for a few moments, and then Steiger's voice once again filtered into his brain, "Open your eyes, Corporal, I have a surprise for you…"_

_Newkirk hesitated briefly, and then his eyes opened wide. He was staring up at Steiger, and at that instant realized he was the one strapped to the table. He watched, terrified, as the doctor from hell raised the hand that was clutching the scalpel. It hung there, suspended in mid-air for a brief moment, and then Steiger brought it down to connect with his flesh. As he did so, Newkirk felt a stabbing pain across his chest, intensifying as Steiger drew the surgical instrument down, pressing deeply into his skin. He didn't want to look, but found that he couldn't help himself. As he glanced down at the damage that Steiger was causing, he froze…the doctor had sliced open his abdomen, and was already reaching inside…_

_A sound bubbled up from inside him, and he let out a guttural scream that echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and back again, momentarily blocking out everything around him. _

_As the sound slowly faded, he could hear Hogan yelling, "Newkirk! Newkirk, look at me! Open your eyes!"_

"Newkirk! Open your eyes!" Hogan was leaning over him, and had his hands on Newkirk's shoulders, attempting to pin him down to the cot. He'd tried to let him sleep as long as possible, but when Newkirk had started screaming and tossing back and forth, he'd had no choice but to wake him. "C'mon, Newkirk, it's only a dream…wake up!"

Newkirk's eyes flew open. He stared up at Hogan, breathing rapidly, a look of complete and utter terror on his face. His hands flew up and he gripped Hogan's arms tightly. "Nooo," he moaned, "Please, stop…"

"Newkirk, it's all right…you're all right," Hogan told him, trying to bring him out of it.

Newkirk blinked a few times, and as his eyes focused, he realized he'd had another nightmare. "Colonel," he uttered, breathing a sigh of relief, and instantly regretted it when a piercing pain ran the length of his chest. He involuntarily let out a groan, and then let go of Hogan's arms and gingerly placed his hands on top of the blanket. "Blimey, me chest 'urts," he said, grimacing.

Hogan noted the pained expression on Newkirk's face, and, suspecting the corporal's thrashing might have aggravated his cut, he released his grip on the corporal's shoulders and leaned back to take a look. "Move your hands, Newkirk," he told him, "I need to check on your wound." Newkirk complied, and Hogan grabbed the edge of the blanket and lifted it slowly off the Englishman's chest. Sure enough, the incision had reopened in a few spots, and a small amount of blood was oozing out. He inwardly winced, and then replaced the blanket and applied pressure to the affected areas.

Newkirk groaned again, then noticed the concerned look on Hogan's face. "Is it still bleedin', Colonel?" He asked.

"Just a little," Hogan answered, "But I'm sure it will stop soon. It's nothing to worry about." He looked at Newkirk reassuringly, but he had a feeling the corporal wasn't buying it.

Newkirk wasn't. But he didn't want Hogan to know that. "I'm sure you're right, sir," he replied, then suddenly licked his dry lips. "Say, did those two blokes bring us anythin' else to drink? I could do with a bit more water."

Hogan's face brightened. "No, they didn't, but the trays they brought us earlier are still here, and I didn't drink all of my water. Hang on, I'll go get it." He stood up and walked over to the tray, and after leaning down and picking up the glass, straightened up and took it back over to Newkirk. Then he sat down on the edge of the cot and handed him the glass.

Newkirk took it, noticing it was more than half full, and looked at Hogan with concern. "Colonel, you need some of this, too."

"You need it more than I do, Newkirk. Besides, I'm not that thirsty."

Newkirk didn't believe him, but he brought the glass to his lips, and before he could stop himself, downed the contents in a matter of seconds. He guiltily handed the glass back to Hogan, knowing he should have left some for him, but his thirst had been too consuming. "I'm sorry, Colonel, I should 'ave saved some for you…"

Hogan smiled at him. "That's okay, Newkirk, I told you, I'm not thirsty." He got up and took the glass back to the tray, then returned to the cot and once again sat down. Then he lifted the blanket to check on Newkirk's cut. It appeared to have stopped bleeding, but just to be sure, he replaced the blanket and pressed down gently, planning to give it a little more time.

Newkirk lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling for a while, and then brought his hand up to look at his watch. "Blimey, it's eight O'clock already! We've only got four more hours before that devil comes back, don't we?"

Hogan nodded. "Yes, we do," he replied, and then added, "But a lot can happen in four hours."

"You've got somethin' in mind, Colonel?" Newkirk asked.

"Nothing definite," Hogan said, letting out a sigh, "If I could just get one of those guns away from the guards…"

"I don't see how, sir, not without gettin' yourself shot."

Hogan flashed him a small smile. _It's not me I'm worried about,_ he thought to himself, then said out loud, "That's the part I haven't figured out yet."

Newkirk smiled back, then a thought struck him. "Hey, maybe the fellas got out of camp, and are on their way right now to rescue us!"

"You could be right, Newkirk," Hogan replied, trying to sound hopeful. But deep down, he doubted it. How would they ever find out where Steiger was holding them?

Newkirk could tell Hogan didn't really think so. Actually, neither did he, but it was something to cling to, something to keep them from sliding into complete despair. "I just 'ope they get 'ere before midnight," he commented.

Hogan nodded. "Me, too."

They both grew quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Hogan kept up the pressure on Newkirk's wound for a while longer, and then, when he was sure the bleeding had stopped, got up to pace, telling Newkirk to rest.

Newkirk tried, but he knew there was no way he was going to fall asleep again. Instead, he lay there quietly, trying not to move too much; every twitch led to a fresh round of pain running through his incision.

Hogan eventually grew tired of pacing, and took a seat on the floor. After a short while his head started to nod, and he drifted off to sleep.

Newkirk was well aware of how exhausted Hogan was. He was glad when he saw him fall asleep; the colonel needed it desperately. Plus, it gave him a chance to do some serious thinking; a process that was running more smoothly after the sleep he himself had gotten earlier. His main concern was, of course, what was going to happen to them, and as the time for Steiger's return grew closer, he was becoming more convinced that this was the end of the road for either Hogan or himself. All he could do now was hope that, if either of them were to be tortured, he could convince Steiger to pick him.

* * * * * *

"Are you guys ready?" Kinch asked as LeBeau and Carter rejoined him in the main tunnel. The three of them had gone down below just after lights out was announced, and Kinch had been waiting, somewhat impatiently, for the other two men to change into Luftwaffe guard uniforms. He'd decided to remain in his own uniform; he knew he couldn't pass for a German guard, and if they were spotted, he'd dive for cover while LeBeau and Carter convinced whoever stopped them that they were looking for the escaped prisoners. Of course, in the event that he was seen, the two 'guards' could claim that they'd captured him trying to make his own escape, and were taking him back to camp.

"Yeah, we're ready, aren't we, Louis?" Carter answered, glancing at the Frenchman.

"Oui," LeBeau replied, "Let's go!"

The trio headed out, climbing out the tunnel exit one at a time, avoiding the searchlights and melting into the cover of the trees. They picked their way through the forest quickly and quietly, determined to get to Gunter's house as fast as they could without being detected. As luck would have it, they arrived without incident, and, after knocking on the door, were let in by one of the Underground leaders, Fritz Schuman. He and a few others had been periodically checking up on Gunter; at first, helping with his recovery, and more recently, trying to get him to tell them what happened.

"How's he doing, Fritz?" Kinch asked after the men had all greeted each other.

"Well, his physical wounds have almost completely healed," Fritz informed them, "But he is still terribly frightened. Whatever he went through, he is too scared to talk about it."

"Why don't you let us try?" LeBeau suggested, "Maybe if he knows that Colonel Hogan and Newkirk's lives are in danger…"

"He knows," Fritz cut in, "But he's afraid that if he tells you, Steiger will torture him again."

Carter let out a whistle. "Boy, Steiger must have done something really bad for him to be so scared!"

Fritz nodded. "Yes, his wounds were very serious. I'm sure it was terrifying; that is why he is so afraid to tell us what happened, and where Steiger is."

"Let us talk to him," Kinch said, "Maybe we can convince him to tell us, once he knows Steiger won't ever bother him again."

"How do you know that?" Fritz asked.

"Because we're going to take care of him," LeBeau answered; a look of grim determination on his face.

Fritz glanced at Kinch and Carter, and noticed they had the same look on their faces. "Of course, you can talk to him," he replied, and then gestured down the hall with his hand, "This way."

Fritz led them to the rear of the house, where Gunter's bedroom was. He knocked twice on the door, and then opened it slowly. "Gunter," he said when he caught sight of the young Underground agent resting on the bed, "There are some men from Stalag 13 here that would like to speak to you."

"I told you I can't tell them anything," Gunter responded as the door opened wider and Fritz entered, followed by Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau.

Fritz walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Gunter, I know you are scared, but these men need to find Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk before it's too late. You need to tell them where Steiger is."

"No, I can't! He will kill me!" Gunter exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously.

"No, he won't," Kinch stated calmly, "We're going to make sure he can't hurt anyone anymore."

"How will you do that?" Gunter asked, and then his eyes widened. "Are…are you going to kill him?"

The three men from Stalag 13 glanced at each other. "If we have to, yes," Kinch answered.

"Then, you have to!" Gunter practically shouted, "Promise me you'll kill him!"

Fritz's jaw dropped. "Gunter!" he exclaimed, shocked.

"It's the only way to stop him!"

Fritz was about to reply, when Kinch spoke up. "Gunter, I can't promise you we'll kill him; we don't do that unless it's absolutely necessary. But I _can_ promise you that no matter what happens, we'll make sure that he can never bother you, or anyone else, ever again."

Gunter remained silent; contemplating what Kinch had told him.

After a moment, LeBeau piped up, "But we can't do that unless you tell us where he is."

Gunter glanced at LeBeau, and then looked back at Kinch. "Are you sure you can keep him from…" he sucked in his breath, and then let it out slowly, "Hurting me again?"

Suddenly Carter walked over and knelt down next to the bed. "Hey, Gunter, I know you're scared; heck, we all are. But Steiger's got Colonel Hogan and Newkirk – he's my best friend, by the way – and you know as well as I do that he's probably doing something awful to them. If you tell us where they are, I promise we'll take care of him so he can't ever hurt you again. We're pretty good at that, you know, getting rid of the bad guys." Then Carter smiled at him, his expression full of hope, "So, what do you say, buddy?"

Gunter studied Carter's face for a moment, and then nodded. "All right, I'll tell you."

The rest of the men in the room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Gunter then proceeded to explain where they could find the house that he'd been taken to, and when he'd finished, Fritz was nodding his head. "I know where that is," he stated, motioning the men to follow him back to the front room.

When they got there, Fritz walked over to a small table near the door that had a drawer attached, and after opening it, pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. He leaned over the table and, as he wrote, he spoke to the men standing behind him. "I am writing down the directions to the house where Gunter said he was taken. There are two Underground agents outside, Karl and Friedrich…I believe you know them…"

"Of course," LeBeau interrupted, "We've worked with them many times."

Fritz nodded, and then set the pencil down, straightened up, and turned around to look at them. He held out the paper, and as Kinch took it, he said, "When you go outside, give this to Karl. He has his car with him, and he'll take you to the house. Friedrich will accompany you, also." Then his expression grew very serious. "They want to help you rescue Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk."

"I don't know," Kinch started to shake his head, "It's going to be very dangerous…"

"They know the risks," Fritz replied, "And they also know that you will need all the help you can get. I would go with you, too, but I do not want to leave Gunter alone."

Kinch glanced at Carter and LeBeau, then looked back at Fritz. "We understand, and we're grateful for their help…and yours, Fritz."

Fritz smiled, but there was worry in his eyes. "It's the least we can do for you." Then he glanced at his watch. "You better get going, the house is rather far. I doubt you will reach it until sometime after midnight."

Kinch, LeBeau, and Carter said their goodbyes to Fritz, and then quickly headed outside to the waiting Underground agents. After a brief greeting, the men piled into Karl's car, and sped off into the night.

* * * * * *

Newkirk was in the middle of contemplating how he was going to get Steiger to choose him and leave Hogan alone, when he heard noises outside the door; faint at first, then becoming louder. He glanced at his watch; it was almost midnight. Then he looked over at Hogan and saw him stirring. "Colonel," he called out, "I think you better wake up; Steiger's back."

Hogan's eyes snapped open, and he glanced around the room quickly, getting his bearings. Then he noticed Newkirk looking at him, and, after getting up from the floor, walked over and sat down next to him on the cot. "Hey, Newkirk, sorry I dozed off," He said, giving his head a shake to clear out the remnants of sleep still lurking inside.

"No problem, sir," Newkirk replied, "I'm sorry I 'ad to wake you, but it's almost midnight."

Hogan looked down at his watch. "You're right," he acknowledged, "Steiger's probably going to be here any minute."

As if on cue, the door opened, and the guards entered, guns drawn. They spotted the two prisoners on the cot and waved their loaded weapons at them. "Get up!" Rolf shouted, glaring at Hogan.

As Hogan slowly rose, Rolf gestured toward the wall. "Go on!" he barked, watching Hogan intently as he moved over to the now familiar spot.

When Hogan got there, Rolf approached, and clamped the manacles around his wrists. Then he turned and walked back to the cot. "Now, you, get up!" he yelled, nudging Newkirk with the business end of his gun.

As Newkirk started to sit up, he groaned loudly; the movement causing the cut on his chest to send out waves of pain in protest. He was trying to move as quickly as possible, but apparently it wasn't fast enough for Rolf, who lost his patience and grabbed Newkirk's arm, yanking him to his feet. Then he dragged the Englishman over to the wall and chained him up.

When Rolf was finished, he walked back over to Dietrich, and they both exited the room, leaving the door wide open. A few moments later they came back, carrying a long, narrow table into the room with them. They set it up in front of the men chained to the wall, and then left again. A few more moments passed, and then Steiger entered, decked out in his white lab coat. He looked first at Newkirk, then at Hogan, and a smile broke out on his face.

"Gentlemen, I believe it's time to begin."


	14. In the nick of time?

Hogan stared at Steiger, attempting to keep his rage under control, and, for the moment, succeeding. His hatred of the man was complete; both for what he'd done to Newkirk recently, and for what he did to him for three days at his SS facility, months ago. In fact, hate wasn't even a strong enough word for what he felt…loathe? Despise? _If only I could get my hands free, I'd wrap them around that scrawny neck of his, and squeeze… _He mentally shook his head. No, he couldn't let his hate take over; he had to stay in control. He had to make sure Steiger picked him for his little game. He had to make sure that he was the one who ended up on that table. Somehow, he had to make sure Newkirk survived; it was his job to protect him, after all. He stole a glance at the corporal, wondering briefly how he was holding up, and wished with all his heart he could get him out of this mess.

Newkirk glanced back and forth between Steiger and the table, trying to get a handle on his situation. The first thing he noticed was that the withdrawal effects from the sleeping pills had subsided somewhat; he wasn't as dizzy as before, and his breathing had calmed down, as well as his heart rate. And his thoughts were behaving more normally; they didn't seem quite so scattered and far away. But his anxiety level was as high as ever, although he wasn't sure if that was because of the withdrawal, or the circumstances. He also noticed his nerves were on edge; he felt irritated, like his skin was crawling from the inside. It was all he could do to keep his emotions in check. And having his arms chained up wasn't doing wonders for the pain that ran the length of his chest, either. Of course, his biggest concern at this point was Hogan; he knew the colonel was going to volunteer himself for Steiger's game, and he wasn't about to let that happen. Even though he was terrified of lying on that table, seeing that madman standing over him with that dreaded scalpel in his hand, he was more terrified of seeing Hogan in the same position. No, he had to make Steiger pick him.

Steiger eyed the men chained to the wall with amusement. "So, Colonel Hogan, Corporal Newkirk, which of you would like to participate in my favorite game?"

Hogan and Newkirk glanced at each other, then back to Steiger. "I will," they replied in unison.

Hogan's head snapped back to look at the corporal. "What? Newkirk, I told you, it's _my_ decision!" he exclaimed.

"And I told you I won't let you do it!" Newkirk shot back.

Hogan glared at him for a moment, then looked at Steiger. "If you're gonna play your game with one of us, it's gonna be me."

"Why? Just because you're a ruddy officer, I'm supposed to shut me mouth and let that madman 'ave 'is way with you, is that it? Well, I can't…not for somethin' like this!"

"Newkirk, that's enough! This isn't the time to…"

"This is the perfect time!" Newkirk looked at Steiger pleadingly. "You 'ave to take me! Look, you've already started…" he threw a quick glance at his chest, "You might as well finish the job."

"Newkirk, I'm gonna bust you down to private if you don't shut up!"

"Gentlemen!" Steiger held up his hands. "I must say, I am touched by your loyalties; however, this bickering, while amusing, is only hurting your cause. If you can't decide between yourselves, I'll simply have to kill you both."

Hogan and Newkirk stared at each other, neither one willing to back down. At last Hogan spoke up. "Steiger," he said while keeping his eyes glued to Newkirk, "You like to play games, don't you?"

"It depends on the game," Steiger replied.

Hogan turned his head to look at him. "How about you pick a number between one and ten, and whichever one of us comes closest, he's the one you can play your game with."

Steiger looked at him curiously, appearing to contemplate it. "You do realize you'll be leaving your fate, and that of your corporal's, up to chance, don't you, Colonel?"

"Yes. But that's what makes it fair." Hogan glanced at the man chained up next to him. "Right, Newkirk?"

"Colonel, I know what you're tryin' to do, and I don't like it…"

"You've got just as much chance to be chosen as I do, Newkirk," Hogan replied evenly, "I'm willing to accept the outcome…are you?" Actually, he didn't like the idea, either, but it was the only thing he could think of at the moment to buy them a little more time, and get Newkirk to stop arguing. He was still determined to get Steiger to pick him, somehow.

Newkirk stared at Hogan, inwardly fighting with himself. He didn't want to give in; if there were even a chance of the colonel ending up on that table… But if he didn't stop arguing, they would both be killed, anyway, and it would be his fault. He stood there, letting his emotions duke it out with his common sense, while wishing futilely for a better solution. In the end, his rational side prevailed. "All right, Colonel," he answered at last, "I'll accept it."

A slow smile spread across Steiger's face. "That won't be necessary, Corporal," he said, "You see, I've already made my decision, and I've chosen…Colonel Hogan!"

Newkirk's eyes grew wide. "What? We 'aven't even picked our numbers yet!"

Hogan realized at that moment what Steiger was doing, and his rage suddenly rose up, gripping his whole body from the inside. The doctor had been playing them all along, entertaining himself by watching their reactions to his ultimatum, the entire time knowing who he was going to pick. And something else occurred to him as he mentally replayed the events leading up to where they were now; Steiger was doing it just to mess with Newkirk.

"You're very clever, "Hogan stated, forcing himself to remain outwardly calm, "You've been playing us the whole time, haven't you? You knew exactly who was going to end up on that table."

"You said it yourself, Colonel," Steiger replied, "I like to play games."

"What?" Newkirk exclaimed in disbelief, "You've been plannin' on killin' the colonel this whole time? Then why did you tell us to choose?"

Steiger stepped swiftly in front of Newkirk and glared at him. "Because I wanted to see you beg!" he shouted. "Beg for your colonel's life, knowing you can't save him! Beg for me to kill you in his place!" He reached up and cupped his hand around Newkirk's chin, pushing his head back against the wall, and then leaned in close. "Beg for my mercy," he whispered fiercely, "And maybe I _will_ let Colonel Hogan live."

Newkirk's face filled with fear. "Please," he cried out, "Please, I'm beggin' you, don't 'urt the colonel, please…"

"Leave him alone!" Hogan yelled, yanking on his chains.

Steiger ignored him. He slid his hand down to Newkirk's throat and squeezed gently. Then he brought his face to within inches of the corporal's, and stared into his eyes, his gaze boring intensely into him. "You shot me six times, did you know that?" He said calmly, and then his voice escalated. "I almost died…DIED!" he shouted. He paused for a moment to get himself under control, then continued. "My recovery has been slow and painful, as you might expect." As he talked, his hand started to squeeze tighter. "The only thing that kept me from giving up was the thought of exacting my revenge on you," his hand squeezed harder, "And now it's your turn to suffer; suffer for what you did to me!" he exclaimed, his hand tightening further, cutting off Newkirk's air.

"Stop it! Let him go! Get your damn hands off him!" Hogan could only yell helplessly.

"Be quiet, Colonel!" Steiger shouted, "Or I'll finish him right now!"

Newkirk was staring at Steiger, wide-eyed with terror, his heart beating a mile a minute, struggling for a single gasp of air. His head was swimming, and he was becoming light-headed. He could sense that he was on the verge of passing out, and a part of him was relieved.

Hogan saw the look on Newkirk's face, and clenched his jaw to keep from yelling at Steiger again, but he couldn't stop a small moan from escaping his lips. That psycho was strangling Newkirk, and he couldn't do anything to stop him. He'd never felt so utterly helpless before, and it was killing him. He watched the scene before him, his mind willing Steiger to let go, his hands balled into fists so tight that his nails were digging into his palms.

Just before Newkirk lost consciousness, Steiger let go. Newkirk instantly began to gulp in huge breaths of air, while coughing sporadically. His dizziness slowly faded, and when he was able to focus at last, he saw Steiger still standing in front of him, a strange smile on his face.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" Steiger purred seductively.

Newkirk thought he was going to be sick. He felt the bile rise in his throat, but forced it back down; he didn't think his sore, bruised throat could take it.

Hogan was practically trying to rip his chains out of the wall by now. "All right, you've had your fun," he called out angrily, "Now, leave him alone!"

Steiger sighed. "Your Colonel is persistent." He stepped away from Newkirk, and looked at Hogan. "Very well, since you are so desperate for my attention…" His voice trailed off as he turned and headed out of the room.

"Newkirk, are you okay?" Hogan asked him worriedly, once Steiger was gone.

Newkirk coughed. "I've been better, sir," he choked out in a gruff voice.

Steiger returned with his two guards, and then walked over to Newkirk, pointing a gun at him while Rolf and Dietrich went over to unchain Hogan. They pulled the American officer over to the table and gave him a shove, causing him to sit down hard on it. Rolf then barked at him to lie down, and Hogan had no choice but to comply. Then the two guards strapped his arms and legs securely to the table, and walked back over to Steiger.

"You may leave now," Steiger told them.

"Jawohl," Rolf and Dietrich replied in unison, and then left; closing the door behind them.

Steiger stepped over to the cot and tossed his gun on top of it. Then he walked back and positioned himself directly in front of Newkirk once again. "Now, I want you to remember, Corporal Newkirk, that this is all your fault. Your colonel is going to die because of you."

"Don't listen to him!" Hogan shouted.

"Colonel," Steiger glanced at Hogan with annoyance. "Unless you want me to practice some more of my incision-making skills on your man, here, I suggest you be quiet. I won't tell you again." Then he looked back at Newkirk. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was telling you that you are to blame for Colonel Hogan's death. Do you have anything to say before I begin?"

Newkirk was emotionally exhausted by this point. All he had left was his terror as the reality sunk in that his nightmare was about to come true, and he couldn't stop it. He'd been trying desperately to hold himself together, but he finally lost the struggle, and broke down. Tears started streaming down his face, and he pleaded in a small voice, "Please, don't do this; please, please, just let 'im go."

Steiger smiled. "There, there," he replied, talking to him like he was soothing an upset child, "My poor corporal." He reached up and gently stroked Newkirk's tear-stained cheek. "It will all be over soon, and then you can go home. I must admit, I had toyed with the idea of killing you, too, but I think leaving you alive with the memory of this night is a much more suitable punishment. And I've even left you with a visible reminder…" He brought his hand down and placed it on the incision on Newkirk's chest, then pressed hard and drew his hand down slowly, watching for the Englishman's reaction as the pain hit him. He wasn't disappointed; Newkirk moaned loudly, and he shut his eyes tight, forcing more tears to roll down his cheeks.

But Steiger's hand didn't stop at the end of the incision, it continued on until it reached a point much lower, and as it came to rest at its destination, he whispered, "You know, I could remove those for you…another reminder of me, perhaps?"

Newkirk's eyes flew open. He could only gawk at Steiger in shock and horror as he realized what the insane doctor was suggesting.

Hogan hadn't heard what Steiger said, but he saw Newkirk's face from his position on the table, and he couldn't take it anymore. He had to get Steiger away from him. "Are you through?" He asked, sounding irritated, "Because I'm getting lonely over here."

Steiger stared at Newkirk for a few more moments, delighting in his reaction, and then turned and walked over to the table. He circled around to the side opposite the wall where Newkirk still stood, so the corporal would have an unobstructed view. Then he looked down at Hogan. "You seem impatient to get started, Colonel. Very well, we can begin." He pulled the scalpel from his pocket, and brought it up to the front of Hogan's shirt. With one swift motion, he sliced through the threads holding the buttons, and then reached down with both hands and spread his shirt open, exposing Hogan's chest. Then he raised the scalpel, and just stood there, staring at him thoughtfully.

Up until now, Hogan had been going along with Steiger's games and plans; trying to figure out ways to get that madman to leave Newkirk alone, worrying about how to protect his friend, and convincing himself that if Steiger were to kill anyone, it would be him. But he hadn't been thinking about what it meant to actually be on the table that he now found himself strapped to, and what Steiger was about to do to him. His gut started knotting in fear as he realized what kind of slow and incredibly painful death he was facing. He looked up at Steiger, and quickly masked the terror bubbling up inside him; he wasn't about to give that monster the satisfaction of seeing it. "Well, get on with it, already," he said, hoping he sounded more steady than he felt.

Steiger smiled. "I must say, Colonel," he remarked, lowering the scalpel, "You have proven yourself to be a worthy adversary. My only regret is that I don't have more time with you…breaking you would have been one of my greatest challenges."

"Hey, there's always time," Hogan replied, "What's your hurry, anyway?"

"My guards and I are leaving for Switzerland in the morning. You are correct in thinking the Gestapo would frown on my actions."

"Well, don't let me stop you," Hogan said, "In fact, why don't you leave right now, instead of wasting your time on killing me?"

Steiger leaned in, flashing him a knowing look, "I'm afraid it's necessary, Colonel; you see, I still have to teach your corporal a lesson…" His voice trailed off as he brought his scalpel up and rested it lightly on Hogan's chest. Then he began to move his hand slowly, drawing lines across his skin, leaving faint trails of red in its wake.

Hogan realized he wasn't going to talk his way out of this. He inwardly winced when Steiger pushed a little harder in one spot, causing a deeper cut to appear. He glanced over at Newkirk, noticing his glazed expression, and then looked up at Steiger. "So, are you going to do this, or what?" He retorted, knowing that the sooner Steiger finished with him, the sooner Newkirk could get out of there.

"Are you so eager to die, Colonel?" Steiger asked, sounding almost surprised.

"No," Hogan answered, trying not to show his fear of what was coming; the terror that was gripping him to his very core, "But if you're going to kill me, then I'd just as soon you get it over with, and let Newkirk go."

Steiger smiled. "Very well, Colonel," he said, and then raised the scalpel, "Your wish is my command…"

* * * * * *

"This is it," Friedrich said from the front passenger seat, pointing to the small road leading to the right. He'd been studying the directions that Fritz Schuman had given them, and, according to what he'd written, the turn-off directly ahead would take them straight to the house.

Karl slowed down and turned onto the road. He didn't know how far back the house was, so he cut the headlights and continued on slowly. Fortunately the night was clear, and the moon was about three-quarters full, so he could see the landscape in front of him fairly well.

They'd gone almost a half-mile, when Friedrich's hand flew up and pointed again. "There's the house," he stated, catching a glimpse of the building just ahead.

The rest of the men had seen it at about the same time. Karl stopped the car and turned off the motor. Then Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, and the two Underground agents piled out of the vehicle as quietly as possible.

"Okay, let's go over it one more time," Kinch whispered as they pulled out their guns and gathered around. "Carter, you and LeBeau will go up and knock on the door. When the guards open it, they'll think you're Luftwaffe. Tell them you were following an escaped prisoner, and you think he's in the area. Try to draw them outside."

"Yeah…what were we supposed to say, again, Louis?" Carter turned to ask the French corporal.

LeBeau rolled his eyes. "We tell them someone was trying to break into their car, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I remember now," Carter responded quietly, looking embarrassed.

Kinch scowled at him briefly, and then continued. "Karl, Friedrich and I will be waiting on either side of the door, and as soon as they come out, we'll surround them. Got it?"

"Got it," They replied in unison.

The group headed quietly toward the house, choosing their footsteps carefully. When they reached the door, they took their positions. Kinch nodded to LeBeau, who went up and knocked loudly on the door.

Rolf and Dietrich were sitting at the table by the kitchen, laughing and joking with each other, when they heard the knock. They looked at each other, then stood up and, after picking up their guns, walked over to the door. Rolf opened it slowly and noticed with surprise two Luftwaffe guards standing there.

"What do you want?" Rolf asked loudly in German.

"We've been tracking an escaped prisoner," Carter answered, also in German, "We are sure he came this way. Have you seen him?"

Rolf glanced at Dietrich, and then back to Carter. "No, we haven't seen him," he answered.

"He must have been by here," Carter said, "It appears that someone tried to break into your car."

Rolf's eyes widened. "What?" He exclaimed.

"Ja, come and see for yourself." Carter pointed to the car parked out front.

Rolf and Dietrich exchanged glances once more, and then hurried outside. They were instantly met by guns being shoved up against the backs of their heads.

"Don't move!" Karl shouted, while Carter and LeBeau brought up their rifles and aimed them at Steiger's men.

Rolf and Dietrich couldn't have looked more shocked. They stood still as Kinch and Karl removed their weapons. Then Friedrich pulled out two sets of handcuffs and, after pulling Rolf and Dietrich's arms behind their backs, slapped them on.

"Where did you get handcuffs?" Kinch asked Karl curiously when they were finished.

Karl smirked. "Don't ask!"

Kinch smiled back, and then turned to Rolf. "Where are Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk?"

Rolf just glared at him.

Karl brought his gun up to Rolf's cheek, and pressed the cold steel barrel against his flesh. "I would answer him, if I were you," he stated coldly.

"They're in a room down in the cellar," Dietrich piped up.

Rolf shot him an angry look. "Don't you know how to keep your mouth shut?" he snapped.

Dietrich wilted under the older man's glare.

Kinch turned to Karl. "Can you handle these two?" He asked him.

"Ja, Friedrich and I will take care of them," Karl replied. "Go and get your men."

As Kinch, Carter and LeBeau started to head for the house, Rolf shouted after them, "You're too late! Your Colonel is dead!"

The trio hurried into the house and quickly found the door that led to the cellar. They glanced at each other, their expressions all mirroring the fear at what they would find, and then Kinch opened the door, and they crept quietly down the stairs. When they reached the door to the room at the back of the cellar, they heard a noise coming from the other side. As it grew louder, they realized it was Newkirk, screaming. Kinch grabbed the doorknob and, after taking a deep breath, lifted his gun and flung the door open.

None of them were prepared for the sight that awaited them.


	15. Enough is enough

A/N: Okay, here's chapter 15; I tried not to keep you all waiting too long. And I hope you'll forgive me for my evil cliffhanger; I just couldn't resist! Also, I want to thank my son for coming up with the chapter title.

* * *

Kinch, Carter and LeBeau gasped in unison at the sight that met their eyes. Newkirk was chained to the wall opposite the door, his shirt was split down the middle, exposing an angry red cut that ran the length of his chest, and his eyes were filled with terror. They followed his gaze, and instantly knew why.

Directly in front of Newkirk was a table with a man stretched out across it, lying on his back, and he was strapped down securely. Even though they couldn't see his face, which was momentarily blocked from their view by the man standing in front of him, they knew it was Hogan. The man standing there had his back to them, with his right hand raised in the air, and he was holding something shiny and metallic-looking. As he started to turn around, apparently startled at the interruption, they immediately recognized him…Steiger.

Steiger's eyes widened with surprise when he saw who was at the door. "How did you get in here?" he shouted.

At that moment Kinch recognized the object that was in Steiger's hand. He aimed his gun at him and yelled, "Drop it!"

Steiger's expression quickly changed to anger. He glared at Kinch for a moment, and then suddenly his face relaxed. "What, this?" he replied innocently, waving the scalpel back and forth, "I would be most happy to release it…" then his lips turned up in a cruel smile and he exclaimed, "As soon as I finish!" He turned back to Hogan and brought his hand down with lightening speed, aiming directly for the middle of Hogan's chest; just above his heart.

"Nooo!" Newkirk wailed, and then a shot rang out.

As the echo from the gunfire faded, they all heard what sounded like a piece of metal striking the floor. Everyone's eyes were riveted on Hogan, who had a spot of blood on his chest that was slowly spreading. But it wasn't Hogan's blood…it was dripping onto him rather steadily from Steiger's hand. Kinch had shot the scalpel right out of it!

"Aaahhh!" Steiger cried out in pain, grabbing his wounded hand and turning to look at Kinch, "You shot me! How dare you!"

Now it was Kinch's turn to look surprised. "What did you expect? You were gonna hurt the Colonel." Then he walked into the room, towards the table, keeping his gun leveled at Steiger. "Colonel, are you all right?" He asked, glancing at him as he drew near.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Kinch." Hogan replied with an almost imperceptible waver in his voice, "What took you so long?"

"Traffic," Kinch responded, and smiled at him.

"This is unacceptable!" Steiger suddenly shouted, "You're not allowed in here! You are interrupting my work!"

Hogan's eyes locked on Steiger, and something dark passed across them. "Your work?" he said incredulously, then his voice rose and he shouted, "Your Work? You think torturing and killing people is your job?"

"Teaching them a lesson is my job!" Steiger yelled back, then looked at Kinch. "You will pay for this! You will pay for interrupting me…and for shooting me!"

Kinch eyed Steiger with disgust, and then flicked his gun toward the wall behind the doctor. "Over there!" He ordered.

Steiger glared at him, but he obeyed, backing up to stand against the wall.

Kinch sidled up to the table, keeping his gun trained on Steiger. "Don't worry, sir, we'll get you loose," he said, then glanced over at Carter and LeBeau. "Hey guys, why don't you untie the Colonel, and unchain Newkirk? I bet they'd like to get out of here."

"What was your first clue?" Hogan replied, smirking at Kinch. Then he turned his head to look at Newkirk. "Looks like the cavalry arrived in the nick of time, after all, doesn't it, Newkirk?"

Newkirk just looked at him, a vacant expression in his eyes.

"Newkirk?" Hogan called out worriedly, "Newkirk, are you all right?"

Newkirk blinked. "What?" he replied in a small voice.

"I said, are you all right?"

"I…I think so, gov'nor."

"We're gonna be okay; the guys are here to rescue us."

Newkirk stared at Hogan for a moment. "Oh, okay," he finally responded.

By now Carter and LeBeau had come over to undo the restraints pinning Hogan to the table. Once they freed him, he sat up, swung his legs over the side, and hopped off. He zipped up his jacket to cover his bare chest, and then strode quickly over to Newkirk. When he got there, he immediately recognized the look in the corporal's eyes; it was eerily similar to the way he'd looked when he'd begun to remember what happened to him at the SS facility.

Hogan reached out and placed his hand on Newkirk's shoulder, while studying him concernedly. "Hey, it's okay, it's all over; Steiger can't hurt you anymore."

Carter, who had been in too much shock to say anything up to this point, followed Hogan over to where Newkirk was chained up and blurted out, "What happened to him, Colonel?"

"I'll tell you later," Hogan answered, "Right now we need to get him unchained." He glanced around the room, and then a thought hit him. "LeBeau," he said, addressing the French corporal, "The guards must have the keys upstairs. See if you can find the key that'll unlock these manacles."

LeBeau, who had also been speechless until now, nodded and replied, "Oui, mon Colonel, I will get it." He turned and headed out of the room, his steps quickening as he hurried upstairs.

"Corporal Newkirk has been through too much, Colonel," Steiger suddenly piped up from his current position against the wall, "He will never recover; at least, not mentally."

Hogan whipped his head around to glare at Steiger, who was staring back with a smug look on his face. He walked over and stopped next to Kinch. "Oh, I think he will, once he knows you can't hurt him anymore."

Steiger smiled, a condescending look now appearing on his face, "My dear Colonel, do you really think you can stop me?" he replied. "Oh, I know how your operation works; you will attempt to send me to London, so I can spend the rest of the war as a prisoner, correct?"

Hogan suddenly reached over and grabbed the gun out of Kinch's hand. He brought it up and pointed it at Steiger's head. "And what makes you think we're going to do that with you?" he stated, barely masking his fury.

Steiger smiled. "Because I know your kind, Colonel Hogan; too soft, too caring, too reluctant to take a human life…that is why you are going to lose the war, you know."

Hogan stared at him, his finger slowly starting to squeeze the trigger, when Kinch suddenly interjected, "Colonel, I think we should send him to London; they'll know what to do with him."

Hogan hesitated, then started to lower the gun.

Steiger smiled wide. "You see? You're soft. As a matter of fact, I imagine it will take very little effort on my part to escape, and then I can return, and pick up where I left off…" he glanced at Hogan's chest, and then over at Newkirk, a malicious gleam in his eye.

The memory of Steiger slicing that incision down Newkirk's chest suddenly filled Hogan's brain, followed immediately by the image of Steiger's hand strangling the Englishman, while he'd stood there, helpless to protect his corporal both times. His rage boiled over, slamming into him from the inside, and once more his eyes darkened. He raised the gun and aimed it again at Steiger's head. "You won't be returning from where you're going," he declared resolutely, and fired.

Steiger's face registered surprise as the bullet ripped through his brain. He slid slowly to the floor, and slumped down, tilting sideways.

Hogan gave him a shove with his foot, and Steiger fell over, his head coming to rest on the cement floor. He leaned over and looked at him, and then stuck the barrel of the gun against his head and fired again. Steiger's body jerked in response, and then lay still.

Kinch stared at Hogan, his jaw hanging open, momentarily shocked into silence. He watched as the colonel reached down to check Steiger for a pulse, wondering why Hogan was even bothering; it was obvious Steiger was dead. After a few moments the colonel, apparently having reached the same conclusion, began to straighten up. As he did so, Kinch finally found his voice. "Colonel, why did you do that?" he asked.

Hogan gazed steadily at Kinch, and replied calmly, "Because it was the only sure way to stop him."

Kinch stared back, and something told him that Hogan was right. He didn't know exactly what had happened here, but it was obvious it had been pretty terrible, judging by Newkirk's appearance, and the position Hogan had been in when they'd found them. As stunned as he'd been to see Hogan shoot Steiger like that, he'd always trusted the colonel's judgment, and this time was no exception. He nodded at him and said, "I'm sure you're right, Colonel."

"Well, to be honest, Colonel, I'm glad you did that," Carter, who was still standing next to Newkirk, now piped up, "I mean, after what he did to Newkirk, and what he was going to do to you…uh, what was he going to do you, anyway?"

Hogan smiled at him. "Later, Carter."

Just then LeBeau returned with the key, and as he walked over to hand it to Hogan, he saw Steiger's body on the floor. "What happened?" he asked, glancing between Hogan and Kinch.

"You should have seen it, Louis!" Carter exclaimed, "The Colonel shot him right in the head! He was talking about escaping from London and coming back here to…"

"Carter!"

Carter stopped. "Sorry, sir," he replied sheepishly.

LeBeau glanced once more at Steiger. "Well, I say, good riddance!" he huffed.

"C'mon, let's get out of here." Hogan walked over and unchained Newkirk, noticing the corporal was looking a little pale. "Think you can make it, Newkirk?" he asked him as he pulled the corporal's jacket closed and buttoned it for him, in an effort to protect his wound and keep him warm.

Newkirk looked at him and blinked slowly. "Oh, yes, sir," he responded after a moment, "I'm just feelin' a bit dizzy…" He managed a few steps before his knees started to buckle.

Hogan, who was on Newkirk's right, reached out and caught him and, after gripping his arm, wrapped his own arm around the corporal's back. "Carter, help me," he grunted.

Carter did the same from Newkirk's left side, and between the two of them, they were able to support him well enough to get him upstairs and out of the house.

Kinch and LeBeau were in the lead, and when the group emerged into the cool, clear night, they saw Karl waiting for them just beyond the door.

"Hey, Karl, where's Friedrich?" Kinch asked, glancing around.

"He put those two men that we captured in the back seat of their car," Karl informed him, "He'll take them someplace where we can hold them until we're able to send them off to England." Then he looked past Kinch, and saw Hogan and Carter walking up, half-dragging, half-carrying Newkirk between them. "Colonel Hogan!" he exclaimed, "It's good to see you are alive!"

"It's good to be alive, Karl," Hogan answered, smiling broadly at him. "I see they got you to help rescue us."

"Nein, Colonel, we volunteered," Karl stated, "Friedrich is with me; he is taking care of Steiger's men."

Hogan looked at him gratefully and nodded.

"So, what happened to Steiger?" Karl inquired.

"He's dead," Hogan replied, matter-of-factly.

Karl studied Hogan for a moment and then said, "Good. He was an evil man. I am glad he will never be able to hurt anyone again." He paused for a moment, watching the other men's heads nod in agreement, and then gestured towards his car. "I'm sure you are all ready to get back. We can take my car…"

"We can't go straight back to Stalag 13," Hogan cut in.

"I know, Colonel," Karl replied, "I will take you to Gunter's house. We can decide what to do when we get there."

Hogan's eyebrows shot up. "Gunter? How did he get involved in all this?"

"We'll explain on the way, sir," Kinch said.

They walked over to Karl's car and piled in. It was a tight squeeze in the back; Carter slid in first, helping Newkirk in to sit next to him, then Kinch followed, and finally LeBeau. Hogan took the front passenger seat, and as soon as Karl started up the car, he turned around on the narrow road, and headed back.

* * * * * *

It was almost two in the morning when Fritz Schuman heard a car drive up outside and stop in front of the house. He'd been sitting in the front room waiting for the men to return, wondering what they'd found when they'd arrived at Steiger's house, and desperately hoping they hadn't been too late. He jumped up from his chair and hurried over to the door. As he opened it, he caught sight of the men climbing out of Karl's car, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when two of the occupants exiting the vehicle turned out to be Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk.

As the group of men headed towards the house, Kinch and Carter stayed close to Newkirk, ready to help him if necessary. The Englishman was looking a little better; he'd dozed off in the car shortly after they'd left Steiger's house and had slept most of the way back, but he still appeared to be a bit unsteady on his feet.

Fritz held the door open for them as they entered the house and crowded into the front room. Kinch guided Newkirk to a chair and helped him sit down, noticing that he still had that dazed look in his eyes; the one that had been there since they'd rescued him and Hogan.

As soon as everyone was inside, Fritz closed the door and went to join the group. "Colonel Hogan," he said, smiling as he walked into the room, noticing that Hogan was crouched down in front of Newkirk, unbuttoning the corporal's jacket, "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you and Corporal Newk…Gott im Himmel!" he exclaimed, his eyes growing wide as Hogan spread open Newkirk's jacket, exposing what was underneath.

"Fritz," Hogan stated calmly, "Could you get me some soap and warm water?"

"Right away, Colonel," Fritz replied, turning and hurrying out of the room. His mind was burning with questions, but he knew they could wait.

Karl, who was also catching his first glimpse of the cut on Newkirk's chest, turned and followed Fritz out, saying, "I will get some towels."

Hogan now stared intently into Newkirk's eyes, seeing that familiar faraway look in them, as though they were focused on something a million miles away. "Newkirk, how are you feeling?" he asked, hoping to bring his attention back to their current situation.

Newkirk just gazed at Hogan for a moment, then he blinked a few times, and his brow furrowed in confusion. "What?" he answered.

"I said, how are you feeling, Newkirk?" Hogan repeated.

"Oh." Newkirk paused, then said, "I'm okay, sir." Suddenly his face took on a worried look and he began to glance around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. "Colonel, where are we?"

Hogan smiled. "We're at Gunter's house."

"Gunter's house? 'Ow did we get 'ere?"

"Karl drove us," Hogan said, and then asked, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I remember Steiger, 'e was about to…but 'e didn't did 'e? Because Kinch shot 'im, and then you shot him in the 'ead…" Newkirk sucked in his breath, "Is 'e dead, Colonel? Is 'e really dead this time?"

Hogan's smile widened. "He's dead, Newkirk."

Just then Fritz and Karl returned, and handed Hogan the items he'd requested. As Hogan began to clean Newkirk's cut gently, Kinch filled Fritz in on the details of the rescue. He finished at about the same time as Hogan, who, after pressing a clean towel to Newkirk's chest, stood up and turned towards his men.

"We've got to get back to camp," Hogan stated, "I want Wilson to check Newkirk's cut as soon as possible. He should have something on hand that might help keep it from getting infected."

"Well, sir, we could all go back right now, but how would we explain you two suddenly showing up inside the camp?" Kinch asked.

"I have an idea, Kinch," Hogan answered, "You three go on back, and give Gunter's phone a ring when you get there. Then Fritz will call the stalag, and say he found two escaped prisoners wandering around on his property, and took them prisoner. Klink'll probably send Schultz to come pick us up, and, Voila! We'll be back in camp in no time."

Fritz was nodding. "That should work, Colonel, except…how will you explain Corporal Newkirk's injury?"

"I'll think of something." Hogan reassured him. Then he once more turned to his men. "All right, get going, and be careful! I don't want any of you getting hurt…or caught."

"Don't worry, mon Colonel," LeBeau said, "If anyone sees us, they'll think we are just two more guards from camp, looking for you and Newkirk."

"Yeah, Colonel," Carter piped up, "And if they don't believe us, we'll just have Kinch shoot 'em; he can't miss!"

Smiles broke out on everyone's faces, and then Newkirk said loudly, "Especially if 'e's aimin' for their bloody 'ands!"

That got a laugh out of them. Then Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau walked over to the door, and after one more glance at Hogan and Newkirk, headed outside and took off into the night.


	16. Be it ever so humble

After Kinch, Carter and LeBeau left, Hogan took a seat on the chair next to Newkirk, while Fritz sat down opposite them. Karl picked up the soap, the bowl of warm water, and the towels, and took them out of the room.

Fritz cleared his throat. "It will be a little while before your men arrive back at the camp, Colonel," he stated, "Perhaps you or Corporal Newkirk would like to lie down for a while? There is a spare bedroom in the back."

"I'm all right, Fritz," Hogan answered, "But Newkirk, I think you could use some rest." He turned his head to look at Newkirk and put his hand on the corporal's shoulder.

"Oh, no, Colonel, I'm all right," Newkirk responded, "But I am a bit thirsty." He glanced at Fritz. "I could do with a wee drop to drink."

"Oh, of course! What was I thinking?" Fritz stood up quickly, "You two must be hungry, as well. Let me get you something…"

"Please, don't go to any trouble, Fritz," Hogan said.

Fritz smiled. "It's no trouble, Colonel. I'll be right back." As Fritz was leaving the room, he nearly ran into Karl, who was just returning, and snagged his arm; pulling him towards the kitchen to help him fix a snack for Hogan and Newkirk.

When they'd left, Hogan turned to Newkirk. "Are you sure you don't want to lie down for a while?" He asked him.

"I'm sure, sir," Newkirk answered.

Hogan nodded, and dropped his hand from Newkirk's shoulder. They sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, when suddenly Newkirk turned his head to look at him, his expression registering concern.

"I just remembered; Steiger cut you, too, didn't 'e, sir?" he asked worriedly, glancing at the front of the colonel's jacket.

Hogan smiled at him reassuringly. "It's nothing, Newkirk. He barely scratched me. A couple days from now, you won't even be able to tell…" He paused as his gaze dropped; landing on Newkirk's chest, and his expression grew serious. "I'm afraid you're going to have a scar," he said quietly.

Newkirk saw the concern in Hogan's eyes, and smirked at him. "Tell me somethin' I don't know, Colonel!"

Hogan flashed him a small grin, glad to see the old Newkirk humor returning, but inside he felt terrible about Newkirk having to bear a permanent reminder of the torture he'd endured at the hands of that devil, Steiger.

Just then Fritz and Karl returned, each carrying a plate containing a sandwich piled high with ham and cheese, and a tall glass of water. Fritz handed one set to Hogan, and Karl offered the other to Newkirk.

The men took them gratefully, both of them realizing at that moment how hungry they were. The room became quiet as they dug in, wolfing down their sandwiches, their appetites taking control.

Fritz and Karl, who had each taken a seat, waited patiently for them to finish. When Hogan and Newkirk both had empty plates and full stomachs, Karl stood up and collected the dishes from them, whisking them off to the kitchen.

As soon as Karl left, Fritz cleared his throat again. "Please forgive our curiosity, Colonel, but Karl and I were talking in the kitchen, and we, um, have a question…" He paused for a moment, then leaned forward and asked, "Colonel, can you tell us what happened to you and Corporal Newkirk in that house?"

"I thought Kinch already filled you in," Hogan answered, knowing what Fritz meant, but reluctant to tell him.

"Before your rescue, Colonel," Fritz clarified, "Exactly what did Steiger do to you and, especially to Newkirk?" He glanced at the corporal's chest.

Hogan frowned. "I'd rather not talk about it. Besides, Steiger's gone now; he can't hurt anyone ever again."

"I understand, Colonel, but we would really like to know…you see, Gunter has a cut like Newkirk's, and he refuses to talk about what happened. Maybe if we knew what Steiger did to him, we would be in a better position to help him."

Hogan let out a sigh, "Yes, Karl mentioned it in the car on the way here…" he paused as he considered it. At last he said, "You could be right; maybe if you knew how Steiger operated, you'd have some idea what Gunter's going through."

"Colonel, you sure you want to tell 'im?" Newkirk asked, looking at Hogan.

"I think we should, Newkirk," Hogan replied, "Gunter's just a kid…I'd hate for this to mess him up for the rest of his life."

Newkirk stared at Hogan thoughtfully, and then nodded.

It suddenly dawned on Hogan how hard it might be for Newkirk to listen to him telling the Underground agents what they'd been through. "Why don't you go into the other room and rest, Newkirk?" he suggested, "I can take care of this."

Newkirk knew why Hogan was trying to get rid of him. "No, sir, it's all right, I can 'andle it," he replied.

Hogan smiled at him, then reached over and gave his arm a quick squeeze.

Just then Karl returned, and after he took a seat, Hogan proceeded to tell the Underground agents what Steiger had done to Newkirk and himself, noticing the looks of shock and horror that gradually appeared on their faces as he talked. He couldn't help wondering how it was affecting Newkirk; having to listen to him describe their ordeal, but, to the Englishman's credit, he sat through the whole thing, only occasionally wincing a little when the details became graphic.

When he was through, the room fell silent for a few moments. Then Fritz finally spoke up. "Thank you, Colonel, I think we can help Gunter now. And I am sorry for what you both had to suffer through; Steiger was indeed an evil man; I'm glad he is dead."

"So am I!" Newkirk exclaimed, his voice heavy with emotion.

Just then the phone rang. Fritz got up and walked over to answer it, and after a quick greeting, he listened for a few moments and then said, "Thank you, I will tell him." He hung up the phone and came back to where Hogan was sitting. "That was Sergeant Kinch, Colonel. He wanted me to tell you that they are back at camp, and we can continue with your plan. Would you like me to call Stalag 13 now?"

Hogan nodded. "Yes, Fritz, we might as well get this over with."

* * * * * *

They didn't have to wait too long for the truck to arrive from camp. As expected, Schultz was behind the wheel, and he had brought Corporal Langenscheidt with him. After the German guards exited the vehicle, they walked up to the door; but, before Schultz could knock, Fritz opened it wide.

Are you the man who called about capturing our escaped prisoners?" Schultz asked him.

"Ja, Sergeant; that was me." Fritz moved back to let Schultz and Langenscheidt enter.

As Schultz walked into the front room, his eyes lit on Hogan and Newkirk, who were sitting on the right side of the room, looking at him expectantly. "Colonel Hogan! Corporal Newkirk!" He exclaimed with surprise.

"Hi, Schultz," Hogan greeted him with a grin, "What took you so long?"

"What do mean, 'What took me so long'?" Schultz sputtered, "I came as soon as Colonel Klink told me where to find you. He was very angry, by the way. He does not like being woken up in the middle of the night."

Hogan and Newkirk glanced behind Schultz where Fritz was standing, and saw him nodding with an amused expression on his face. The two men had to fight to keep a straight face.

"Well, I suppose we could have asked this gentleman here to wait until morning to call," Hogan replied, gesturing to Fritz.

Schultz shook his head. "Nein, then the Kommandant would have been angry that, that…" he looked behind him at Fritz.

"Fritz Schuman."

"Danke," Schultz thanked him and turned back to Hogan, "That Herr Schuman waited so long to report that you two were here."

"You 'ave a point, Schultzie," Newkirk piped up. He had his jacket buttoned up again to hide his wound. "What say you take us back to Stalag 13, then, so ol' Klink can catch up on 'is beauty sleep?"

"I don't think that will help," Schultz mumbled. Then his face grew serious. "All right, Colonel Hogan, Newkirk, let's go!"

Hogan and Newkirk rose from their seats and walked toward the rotund guard. Schultz moved aside to let them pass, and gave a quick nod at Langenscheidt to lead the way. The German corporal nodded back, and, turning around, led the prisoners outside.

Schultz brought up the rear, and as he left, he shot a quick glance at Fritz. "Kommandant Klink wants me to thank you for capturing the prisoners. He appreciates it very much."

"Just doing my duty, like any loyal German," Fritz replied, careful to hide his amusement this time. He stood at the door and watched as Hogan and Newkirk were loaded into the back of the truck, followed by Langenscheidt. Then Schultz walked around to the driver's side and climbed in. As the truck drove away, Fritz went back into the house, sighing with relief, and hoping that Hogan and Newkirk wouldn't face too severe a punishment for their 'escape'.

* * * * * *

After Schultz passed through the gate of Stalag 13, he drove up to the front of the Kommandant's office and stopped. Then he got out and walked around to the back of the truck, noticing that Hogan and Newkirk were already climbing out. "The Kommandant wants to see you in his office right away," he said, once the two men had their feet on the ground.

"I kind of figured, Schultz," Hogan replied. Then he and Newkirk turned and headed for Klink's office; Schultz following closely behind.

When they got inside, Hogan knocked on the door to Klink's office, and without waiting for a response, flung open the door and walked in. "You wanted to see us, Colonel?" he asked loudly.

The scowl on Klink's face didn't do justice to the irritation he was feeling at this point. "Yes, Hogan," he answered curtly, "You and Corporal Newkirk here have caused me a lot of trouble. If we hadn't found you by morning, I would have had to call in the Gestapo. Now, do you have anything to say before I sentence you and Newkirk to 30 days in the cooler?"

"You know, technically, you didn't find us," Hogan informed him, "It was that farmer who called you. _He's_ the one who found us."

"Hogan! Just for that, I should give you 60 days in the cooler!"

"Oh, c'mon, Kommandant, have a heart," Hogan replied with sincerity, beginning his psychological 'dance' with Klink, "We turned ourselves in to that farmer! I wanted us to get caught, so we could come back to camp."

Klink's scowl deepened. "Do you really expect me to believe that, Hogan?" he scoffed.

"Yeah, I do," Hogan said, "But don't take my word for it…" He glanced over at Newkirk and gave him a slight nod.

Newkirk reached up and unbuttoned his jacket. Klink and Schultz gasped in unison as he opened it, revealing his cut.

"What happened to Newkirk, Colonel Hogan?" Klink exclaimed.

Hogan took a deep breath, and launched into his story. "Well, when he made his escape from camp the other night, he went over the fence, and got himself snagged on the barbed wire. By the time I found him, he was weak and tired, and his cut looked like it was getting infected. So I brought him to the nearest farmhouse I could find, and let the farmer there take us prisoner. When I told him we were escapees from Stalag 13, he called you right away." He paused for a moment, and then continued, "I figured by getting Newkirk back here, I could have our medic treat him. Plus, I knew he'd be safe."

Klink listened to Hogan's explanation, periodically glancing at Newkirk's wound. He certainly wasn't without compassion, and when he heard Hogan mention the part about knowing Newkirk would be safe in his camp, his irritation began to dissipate. "All right, Colonel Hogan, you and Corporal Newkirk can return to your barracks. I'll suspend the sentence until he is well."

Hogan breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Colonel Klink. You are a fair, generous Kommandant."

Klink made every effort to keep his expression stern, but inside he was blushing. "I am not a monster, Hogan. Perhaps if you had come to me when you discovered your man missing, I could have found him sooner," he scolded halfheartedly, "In any case, I'm glad you did find him, and that you have both returned safely." He paused, staring at Hogan for a moment, and then said, "You may go now."

"Yes, sir," Hogan responded. Then he grabbed Newkirk's arm and led him out of the office, stopping briefly at the door leading to the outside so Newkirk could button up his jacket.

Schultz exited Klink's office before they'd left, and Hogan asked the German guard if he could go get Sergeant Wilson and bring him to Barracks Two. Schultz nodded, and after Hogan opened the door, they all walked outside. As Schultz went to collect the medic, Hogan and Newkirk strode briskly across the compound, and when they reached the barracks, they found the rest of the men waiting for them.

"Hey, Colonel, Newkirk," Kinch was the first to speak, "Welcome back!"

"Oui, it's good to see you both!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Yeah, Colonel," Carter took his turn, "We thought for sure you two were gonna end up in the cooler. How did you get Klink to let you come back to the barracks?"

Hogan smiled. "I just appealed to his humanity."

"And that worked?" Kinch looked surprised.

"Now, Kinch," Hogan stated, "Klink may seem uncaring, but deep down; he's a very compassionate man." He glanced around at the men's stunned faces, and then started chuckling; the rest of them joining in a second later.

Just then the barrack's door opened, and a sleepy-looking Wilson entered, followed by a concerned Schultz.

"Colonel! Newkirk!" Wilson exclaimed, his sleepiness instantly disappearing. "I'm glad you're back!"

"So are we, Wilson," Hogan replied.

"Colonel Hogan, let me know when you want me to take Sergeant Wilson back to his barracks," Schultz called out from behind the medic.

"Will do, Schultz," Hogan said, "And, thanks."

"You're welcome," Schultz answered. Then he turned and exited the barracks.

When Schultz had gone, Wilson looked at Hogan curiously. "So, you wanted to see me, Colonel?"

"Yes, Wilson…here, let's go into my quarters." He gestured towards his office, and then glanced at his men. "You fellas better get some sleep. We've only got a few more hours until roll call."

A chorus of, "Yes, sir," was heard, and Kinch, Carter and LeBeau headed off to their respective bunks. Hogan grabbed Newkirk's arm and led him to his quarters, followed by Wilson.

When they got inside, Hogan closed the door. Then he looked at Newkirk and nodded. The corporal unbuttoned his jacket again, and opened it.

Wilson let out a whistle. "That's some cut you've got there, Newkirk," he said, "Can you tell me what happened?"

Hogan's face clouded over. "Steiger and his scalpel," he told him.

Wilson's eyes widened with surprise. "Steiger did this with a scalpel?" He moved in to examine the wound more closely. "Yeah, I can see it now…the scabbing makes it look a little jagged."

"You got anything that can help keep it from becoming infected?" Hogan asked.

"Yes, sir," Wilson raised the medical kit that he was carrying, and plopped it down on Hogan's desk. He opened it and began rummaging around, mumbling, "I know it's here somewhere, I always keep some on hand…ah, here it is!" He pulled out a small glass bottle of Mercurochrome. (1) "This should do the trick." He turned towards Newkirk. "You better remove your jacket, and what's left of your shirt; this stuff'll stain the material."

Newkirk nodded. He slipped out of his jacket and tossed it on the bottom bunk. Then he freed his arms from the sleeves of his shirt, and slipped the part that was still connected around his neck up over his head. After he tossed the tattered garment on the bunk, he looked back at Wilson, and noticed the medic eyeing his wrists.

"Looks like those are going to need some attention, as well," Wilson said, glancing at the red rings encircling each wrist. Then he looked over at Hogan, "Tell you what, I'm going to go get some water. You've got soap in here, right, Colonel?"

"Yeah, I've got my soap…and a washcloth, and a few clean towels."

"Great! I'll be right back." Wilson headed quickly out of Hogan's quarters, and, after grabbing one of the clean pots hanging from the stove, went over to the sink and filled it with water. Then he returned to the colonel's quarters and set the pot on Hogan's desk.

As Hogan handed Wilson the soap and the washcloth, he said, "I already cleaned the wound on Newkirk's chest when we were at Gunter's house."

Wilson nodded. "That's good, Colonel," he replied while he shoved the cloth into the cold water. "But I don't think it will hurt to do it again." Then he squeezed the excess water out of the cloth, and rubbed a little soap on it. He turned and stepped up in front of the corporal. "Okay, Newkirk, this is going to be a little cold…"

Newkirk sucked in his breath when the cloth made contact with his cut. "Blimey, you weren't jokin, were you?" He instinctively shifted backward a little.

Wilson scowled at him. "You're going to have to stand still, Newkirk."

"I'm bloody tryin'!" Newkirk exclaimed.

Wilson continued to clean the cut as gently and quickly as he could, seeing Newkirk wince every time he rinsed the cloth and brought it back to the corporal's chest. At last he was finished, and moved on to his wrists. Those didn't take much time at all, although he couldn't help noticing that Newkirk's hands were trembling a little when he held them out.

"All done!" Wilson smiled and tossed the washcloth in the pot. He grabbed a towel and patted the wet areas dry, and then he tossed the towel on the chair by the desk, picked up the bottle of Mercurochrome and turned back to Newkirk. "Now, hold still, Corporal, while I put some of this on your cut."

"Will it 'urt?" Newkirk asked worriedly.

Wilson looked him in the eyes. "It might sting a little."

"Oh, joy," Newkirk murmured.

Wilson proceeded to open the bottle, and then dabbed some of the liquid on his cut, which left a dark red stain.

"Cor!" Newkirk practically yelled as his face screwed up in pain, "You said it would only sting a little! Blimey, it feels like me chest is on bloody fire!" He inadvertently started to pull away again.

"Hold still, Newkirk!" Wilson replied with a hint of irritation, "It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? You bloody try it, then!"

That's enough, Newkirk," Hogan interjected.

Newkirk gritted his teeth while Wilson continued to put the antiseptic on his cut, murmuring, "I bet you're enjoyin' this, aren't you?"

Wilson finished, and as he replaced the top on the bottle, said, "Would you rather get an infection, Newkirk? I can promise you it'll hurt a whole lot worse than this stuff." He waved the bottle in front of Newkirk's face, then set it on the desk.

"No, I wouldn't," Newkirk answered, looking properly chastised. "Sorry, Wilson."

Wilson smiled. "It's all right. I know it stings, but it's necessary. Okay, now let me take care of those wrists." He reached into his bag and pulled out some iodine swabs. "This shouldn't hurt as much; the cuts on your wrists are pretty minor."

"I 'ope you're right."

Wilson swabbed his wrists, and then leaned back to look at him. "That should take care of your cuts for now, Newkirk. But before I go, I'd like to do a quick listen to your chest." He reached into his bag once more and pulled out his stethoscope. Then he directed Newkirk to have a seat on the lower bunk, and leaned down to quickly examine him. When he was through, he straightened up and looked at Newkirk. "Everything sounds okay," he told him reassuringly, laying his hand on the corporal's shoulder, and then dropped his arm and looked over at Hogan. "Your turn, Colonel," he said.

"What?" Hogan was taken by surprise. "That's not necessary, Wilson, I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that, sir," Wilson stated matter-of-factly, "Now, take off your jacket."

"That's right, Colonel," Newkirk piped up from the bunk, "You should let Wilson 'ere see the cuts on your chest."

Wilson's eyes shot up. "You have cuts, too?"

Hogan glanced at Newkirk and scowled. "Traitor!" he hissed.

Newkirk smirked at him.

"C'mon, Colonel, let's see. I'm not leaving until I check you over."

With an irritated sigh, Hogan unzipped his jacket, and removed it. Then he pulled his shirt off, which wasn't doing him much good; anyway, since the buttons were gone.

Wilson scowled when he saw the smear of blood on Hogan's chest. Without a word, he walked over and grabbed the washcloth and soap, and began to clean the blood off of him. When Hogan reached up, as if to do it himself, he batted the colonel's hands away. "_I'll _take care of it," he stated firmly.

Wilson finished, and grabbed the towel, tossing it to Hogan so he could dry himself off. He'd noticed that Hogan's cuts were very superficial for the most part, but he did have one that was a little deeper. He knew all that blood on his chest didn't come from those cuts, but he figured he'd ask him about it later. Right now he wanted to get them both taken care of so they could get some rest before roll call. When he saw that Hogan was through with the towel, he grabbed another iodine swab and applied the antiseptic to his cuts. Then he picked up his stethoscope and listened to the colonel's heart and lungs.

"Everything sounds fine, Colonel," Wilson informed Hogan as he finished. Then he dropped the stethoscope into his bag, and snatched up the rest of his things, putting them back into his bag as well. "I think the two of you should get some rest now, and I'll check on those cuts in the morning."

"All right, Wilson," Hogan said as he was putting on his pajama top. "Let me walk you to the door, though. Schultz told me to let him know when you were ready to leave."

Wilson figured he could do that himself, and was just about to tell Hogan so, when he saw the look in his eyes. "Okay, sir." He replied. As he picked up his bag, he glanced at Newkirk. "Why don't you lie down, and try to get some sleep?"

"Yes, Newkirk; in fact, you can use that bunk tonight." Hogan added.

"Well, all right, Colonel," Newkirk replied. He leaned down onto the lower bunk and pulled his legs up; stretching out on the mattress. "I don't mind the chance to rest me 'ead a bit, but I can't promise I'll 'ave any luck fallin' asleep."

"That's okay, Newkirk," Hogan told him, "Get whatever rest you can." Then he headed for the door to his quarters, motioning Wilson to follow.

Once they were out in the main barracks and Hogan had closed his door, Wilson whispered, "I take it you wanted to talk to me about something, Colonel."

Hogan grinned. "I can't put anything past you, can I?" Then his face grew serious. "I just want to know; what's Newkirk's condition?"

"Well, Colonel, that cut on his chest isn't pretty, but I think it'll heal okay; he's going to have a nasty scar, though."

"I figured as much," Hogan replied, "What else?"

"Well, he's still suffering from withdrawal from those sleeping pills, although it doesn't appear to be too bad at the moment. His heart rate was slightly elevated, but his breathing sounded good. He's still got some tremors in his hands, though."

"Is he going to be okay?"

Wilson sighed. "Physically, yes. He's going to have trouble sleeping for a few more days, and he might have some very vivid nightmares when he does manage to get some sleep, but that will improve in time. Psychologically, I think it's going to take a lot longer."

Hogan looked at him, confused, "But, he seems to be more or less back to normal, now."

Wilson flashed Hogan a grim smile. "Trust me, Colonel, he's not. Right now his mind is trying to cope with everything he's been through, and it's doing that by not dealing with it. It's going to take time for him to work through whatever happened to him." He paused and then looked at Hogan curiously. "What did happen to the two of you, anyway?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow," Hogan replied.

Wilson nodded. "Okay, sir. In any case, don't be surprised if he doesn't get any sleep. And if he does manage to nod off, don't be surprised if has a bad nightmare."

"All right, Wilson, thanks for letting me know. And I think we should both have a talk with him tomorrow, regarding those sleeping pills."

"I agree with you there, Colonel!" Wilson replied.

Hogan grinned. "In the meantime, go on back to your barracks and get some sleep."

"Yes, sir!" Wilson smiled back, and then turned and headed out of Barracks Two.

* * *

(1) According to my research, both Mercurochrome and Iodine were used as topical antiseptics during WWII.


	17. Filling in the blanks

After Wilson left the barracks, Hogan walked over and snagged the blanket off Newkirk's bunk, then went back into his quarters, noticing that Newkirk was curled up on his side on the lower bunk, still awake. He also noticed that the corporal had tossed his jacket and tattered shirt onto the chair by his desk, and had pulled the blanket over himself; the one that had been folded up at the end of the bunk.

"Here, Newkirk," Hogan said quietly as he approached him, "I thought you could use this." He opened up the extra blanket he was carrying, and laid it over him.

"Thank you, sir," Newkirk answered, keeping his own voice low. "It is a bit chilly in 'ere, ain't it?"

"Especially without a shirt on," Hogan replied, and then a thought occurred to him, "Say, I can go get your nightshirt if you want…"

"Oh, no, sir, I'm fine. Besides, I'm not sure I want anythin' touchin' this cut on me chest right now."

"Still hurting a lot?" Hogan asked with concern.

"Just sore, more like," Newkirk said, "That stuff Wilson put on it finally stopped stingin'."

"That's good. Sorry you had to go through that, but it's better than getting an infection."

"I know, sir," Newkirk replied, "I just wish they could make medicine that doesn't 'urt as much as what it's supposed to be ruddy curin'!"

Hogan grinned. "I have to agree with you, there, Newkirk."

Newkirk smiled back, then a thought struck him, "Considerin' we only 'ave a few 'ours left, Colonel, 'adn't you best 'op up to your bunk, and get some sleep?"

Hogan's smile widened. "Yes, mom," he joked, and then said, "You try to get some sleep, yourself, Newkirk."

"Yes, dad," Newkirk replied, smirking at him.

Hogan let out a chuckle, and then climbed up to his bunk, pulled his blanket over him, and stretched out. He wasn't expecting to get much sleep; he still felt pretty wound up. But within minutes he was snoring; the exhaustion of the past few days had finally caught up to him.

Newkirk closed his eyes and tried to do the same, but the anxiety he was still feeling, not to mention the thoughts bombarding his brain, wouldn't let him. So he lay there, listening to Hogan snore, glad the colonel was getting some rest, and wondering with frustration if he was ever going to be able to do the same.

* * * * *

The next thing Hogan knew, LeBeau was knocking on the door to let him know it was almost time for roll call. He forced his eyes open, then sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk and jumped down. He saw that the lower bunk was empty; Newkirk must have already slipped out to get dressed. As he changed into his uniform, he wondered if the corporal had gotten any sleep. If not, he knew the Englishman had to be incredibly tired by now.

Just then he heard Schultz bellowing in the main barracks for everyone to fall out for roll call, and he quickly exited his quarters. He glanced towards Newkirk's bunk, and, just as he'd suspected, the corporal was standing there; dressed and ready to go outside. Then Newkirk looked over in his direction, and he locked gazes with him for a moment. Even from where he was standing, he could see that Newkirk's eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and his eyelids were drooping. Nope, Newkirk hadn't gotten any sleep.

They all piled out of the barracks and stood outside in the cold, dark, early morning until Klink finally decided to grace them with his presence. When he dismissed them at last, they went back inside, glad it was over. LeBeau put on the coffee pot and started to make breakfast. Hogan grabbed Newkirk's arm before he could sit down at the table, and whisked him into his quarters.

"Newkirk," he said after he shut the door, "You look terrible."

"Gee, thanks, Colonel," Newkirk replied with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Hogan ignored it. "You have to get some sleep; you're exhausted. After breakfast I want you to come in here and lie down." As Newkirk opened his mouth to protest, he added, "That's an order!"

Newkirk looked at him with annoyance, and then retorted, "Yes, _sir_!"

Hogan was about to answer him with a retort of his own, when he suddenly stopped himself; that was Newkirk's exhaustion talking. Instead, he nodded and replied, "Good. Now, let's get something to eat."

They went out into the main barracks, taking a seat at the long table in the middle of the room. LeBeau passed out cups of coffee, which Hogan denied to Newkirk, causing the corporal's irritation to intensify. Everyone could see that Newkirk was on edge, and the conversation was kept to a minimum. When they'd finished eating, Hogan got up and motioned to Newkirk to follow him. The corporal reluctantly obeyed, and tagged along as Hogan headed for his quarters.

"Look, this isn't a punishment, Newkirk," Hogan told him after they'd entered the room and he'd shut the door, "But you look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet, and after everything you've been through, I'm not surprised. You need to get some rest; you're no good to me or yourself if you don't."

Newkirk walked over to the lower bunk, and plopped down heavily on it. He rested his elbows on his thighs and lowered his face into his hands, rubbing his brow with his fingertips. After a few moments he raised his head and dropped his hands to his lap. "Don't you think I know that, Colonel?" he finally replied, "I know I bloody need to sleep; the problem is, I can't!"

Hogan grabbed the chair by his desk and turned it around to face Newkirk. He sat down and looked at him with concern. "Hey, I know you're having trouble. Wilson said you'd have insomnia for a few more days; you're still going through withdrawal from those sleeping pills; you know…which, by the way, we will be having a long discussion about later. But right now your body needs to rest; you can't keep going like this forever. Now, why don't you lie down, close your eyes, and relax; I bet you'll be asleep in no time!"

Newkirk stared at Hogan with his dry, bloodshot eyes, and slowly blinked at him. "All right, Colonel, I'll try…I can 'ardly keep me eyes open…" His voice trailed off as he leaned down on the cot, pulling his legs up and making himself comfortable.

Hogan grabbed one of the blankets and spread it over him, then reached down and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You can sleep as long as you want, Newkirk; I'll make sure no one bothers you."

"Thank you, sir," Newkirk mumbled. Then he closed his eyes and forced himself to think about nothing, causing his thoughts to scatter. It seemed to work at last, because a few minutes later, he finally fell asleep.

Hogan tip-toed quietly out of his quarters, and went to rejoin his men in the main barracks. "All, right, listen up," he stated, sweeping his gaze around the room, "No one is to enter my quarters without my permission, and under no circumstances is Newkirk to be disturbed; is that understood?" When he saw everyone's heads nodding, he responded with, "Good!"

Carter, who was still sitting at the table with Kinch and LeBeau, began to look worried. "Is there something wrong with Newkirk, Colonel?" he asked with a slight tremor in his voice.

"He's fine, Carter," Hogan replied reassuringly, "In fact, he's finally getting some sleep. That's why I don't want anyone disturbing him."

"Well, that's a relief, Colonel," Kinch said, "He wasn't looking too good this morning."

"Oui, Colonel, I saw him swaying a little at roll call…a few times I thought he was going to fall over!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"I noticed that, too, LeBeau," Hogan said, then, after studying them for a few moments, apparently mulling something over, he stated, "I think it's time I told you fellas what happened to us."

Kinch, Carter and LeBeau all stared at Hogan; on the one hand, glad that they would know at last what Steiger did to them, but on the other, feeling some trepidation about hearing the details.

Finally Kinch nodded and replied, "I think you're right, sir."

"All right, I'll tell you…but not here. Let's go down into the tunnel. I think Wilson should hear this, too. Carter, why don't you go get him?"

"Yes, sir! Right away!" Carter hopped up and practically ran out of the barracks, on a mission to retrieve the medic as fast as he could. He returned a few minutes later with Wilson, noticing the guys were still hanging around the table, waiting for them. Then they all moved over to the false-bottom bunk and, after Hogan hit the mechanism to raise it, they climbed down, Carter following last, closing the bunk on the way.

Hogan waited for a few moments to let everyone get situated, and then he began. "Before I tell you what happened to us at the house where Steiger was holding us, I'm going to tell you what happened to Newkirk when he was a prisoner of Steiger's at the SS Facility. I think it's time you knew."

"I must say, Colonel, I have been curious about that," Wilson said.

"Me, too," Kinch agreed, his sentiment immediately echoed by LeBeau and Carter.

Hogan's expression became grim. "I take it you all know what an autopsy is, right?" he asked them.

"Oh, I know, sir!" Carter exclaimed, briefly raising his hand as though he were answering a question in school, "It's what they do to a dead body to find out how the person died. They cut it open and look at all the stuff inside…" he made a face, "Boy, I sure wouldn't want that job!"

"Neither would I, Carter," Hogan replied, and then continued, "Well, apparently Steiger had a favorite game that he called, 'Autopsy'," he paused as he steeled himself for what he was about to tell them next. "Only, he liked to play it on live people."

"Live people, Colonel?" Kinch repeated; his eyes growing wide as he realized what Hogan was telling them.

LeBeau and Wilson's eyes widened with shock as well, but Carter looked confused.

"I don't get it, Colonel, how could Steiger do that to someone who's alive? I mean, wouldn't that…kill him?"

Hogan slowly nodded. "Yes, it would."

"Not to mention the pain it would cause," Wilson uttered.

"Especially if he took his time…" Hogan's voice trailed off as he let that sink in.

Carter was still trying to understand. "But, Steiger couldn't have done that to Newkirk, could he? I mean, Newkirk didn't have a scratch on him when you brought him back from that SS Facility."

"No, he didn't, Carter. Steiger never intended to play his game on Newkirk. He made him watch while he did it to someone else."

Both Kinch and Wilson let out a whistle at the same time.

LeBeau couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So, Steiger forced Newkirk to watch, while he performed an autopsy on a live person?"

"Twice," Hogan informed them, "And that Russian he made friends with, Yevgenij, was one of them."

The men's faces filled with horror. No one said anything for a moment, and then Kinch spoke up, "Well, that explains the nightmares."

"And why his mind tried to block out the memories of what he saw." Wilson added.

LeBeau shook his head. "Mon Dieu! I never knew a man could be that evil!"

"Not just evil; insane." Hogan added, then continued, "Now, as to what happened when Steiger took Newkirk and myself hostage; well, you should probably know that he was planning to play his favorite game on me this time."

Kinch looked completely stunned. "So, when we found you and Newkirk at the house, and you were strapped to the table, Steiger was just about to…" he couldn't finish as the realization of what they'd interrupted suddenly hit him.

Hogan's expression grew dark. "Yeah," he replied.

"You mean, Steiger was going to cut you open, Colonel?" Carter looked like he was in a permanent state of confusion, "But, then, why does Newkirk have that cut on _his_ chest?"

"Practice," Hogan replied, swallowing hard.

"What?" LeBeau managed to utter.

"Steiger was practicing his incision-making skills on Newkirk."

"But, why?" Carter was nonplussed.

"To scare me, and to hurt him. He was pretty angry at Newkirk for shooting him."

"I take it that's why he was going to play his game on you, then, Colonel…and make Newkirk watch," Wilson spoke up, "It was his way of getting revenge."

LeBeau suddenly sucked in his breath and brought his hand up to his cheek. "Don't you all realize what this means? If we had been just a few minutes later getting there…" he looked like was about to faint.

The silence was deafening as they all grasped what would have happened if they hadn't shown up when they did.

Just then the false-bottom bunk opened, and Sergeant Olsen poked his head through the opening. "Colonel, Schultz is looking for you. He said the Kommandant wants to see you right away."

"Okay, thanks Olsen," Hogan called up to him, "I'll be right up." Then he turned to the men. "I'd like to keep this between us, understand? The rest of the camp doesn't need to know."

They all voiced their agreement.

"And as for Newkirk, I'll let him know that I've told you, and I'd like you to be willing to listen, if he needs to talk about it, sometime."

Wilson nodded. "That's a good idea, Colonel. Talking it out will help him recover faster."

"Right." Hogan turned to go, when suddenly he stopped and looked back at the men. "Oh, one more thing; try not to ask him a lot of questions, okay? Save those for me."

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.

Hogan went over to the ladder and climbed up to the barracks. He made a beeline for the door, and as he opened it, found Schultz standing on the other side, about to enter. Schultz informed him that the Kommandant wanted to see him, and he thanked the German guard before heading for Klink's office.

The rest of the men just looked at each other for a few moments, still in shock from what Hogan had told them. At last Carter spoke up, "I still don't understand why anyone would do those terrible things to other people, to the colonel, to…Newkirk, you know? Why?" As it finally hit him what Steiger had done, his eyes began to fill up with tears, and he blinked hard a few times, trying to make them stop.

Kinch came over and put his arm around him. "Evil doesn't need a reason, Carter," he replied gently, "But the thing to remember is that we got Newkirk and the colonel out of there in time, and Steiger can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Oui, André, the colonel made sure of that."

Wilson looked curious. "He did?"

"Yeah," Kinch answered, "Colonel Hogan shot Steiger in the head."

"Twice!" Carter exclaimed, wiping his eyes.

Wilson seemed to digest that information for a moment. "Well, then, I'd say the best thing we can do for them right now is just to be there for them; be willing to listen when they're ready to talk about it."

"Them, Wilson?" Kinch asked.

"Yes, them; the colonel's been through a pretty traumatic experience, himself. I know he's our commanding officer, and he's technically not supposed to discuss his feelings with us, but something like this; well, even a colonel needs to talk things out sometimes. And we're all he's got, aren't we?" Wilson grinned, "I'm sure any of you would be willing to listen."

"Of course!" They all exclaimed without hesitation.

Wilson's smile widened. "That's what I thought. In fact, with all of us willing to help him, I think the colonel will be just fine."

"And Newkirk?" Carter asked, looking at Wilson with a hopeful expression.

Wilson sighed. "Newkirk's going to take a little longer." When he saw the disappointed looks on their faces, he continued, "But, here again, the more he talks it out, I believe, the faster he'll recover. I'm glad Colonel Hogan told us what happened to him; Newkirk's bound to feel more comfortable talking about it, once he knows that we know."

Carter's hope returned. "You really think so?"

"I really think so, Carter. Now, I'd better get up to the barracks; I've got to make my rounds. There are still a few guys getting over that nasty cold that ran through here a week ago."

"We'd better get up there, too," Kinch said to Carter and LeBeau. "The colonel might want to see us when he gets back from talking to Klink."

Carter and LeBeau nodded, and the men all headed up the ladder; each of them still horrified over what they'd just learned about the depths of Steiger's depravity, and how close Hogan had come to being another of his unfortunate victims. But yet, relieved to know that at least Steiger was dead, and he could never inflict his evil insanity on anyone ever again.

* * * * *

_Newkirk…Newkirk, open your eyes…_

_Newkirk recognized Steiger's voice. His eyes snapped open, and he realized he was back in the room where he and Hogan had been kept as prisoners. He was lying on the table this time, only he wasn't restrained, and he didn't immediately see anyone else there._

"_Ah, Newkirk, you're awake! I can't tell you how much I've missed you…"_

"_Where…are you?" Newkirk sat up quickly, whipping his head around, "You can't be 'ere; you're dead!"_

"_Tsk, tsk, my dear corporal, you can't get rid of me that easily…"_

_Newkirk continued to glance furtively around the room. The voice seemed to be coming from all around him. "What do you want, Steiger?" he asked nervously._

"_Merely to show you that you haven't won…you will always be under my power…"_

"_You've got no power over me…you're dead!" Newkirk shouted._

"_Perhaps…" Steiger's laughter briefly filled the room, "But I always like to finish what I've started…"_

"_What are you tryin' to say?" Newkirk asked suspiciously._

_More laughter; then Steiger's voice echoed throughout the room, "I have a present for you…look…"_

_Newkirk felt compelled to look at the wall where Steiger usually had him chained up, and the sight that met his eyes caused his breath to catch in his throat. Hogan was there this time; his wrists manacled, his body supported by the chains that held him. There was a long gash running the length of his body, from his neck to his groin, and his insides were hanging out, spilling onto the floor. There was blood everywhere, and as he dared to look into Hogan's eyes; they were vacant and unseeing…_

"Did you hear something?" LeBeau asked as he set one of his pans on the stove, getting ready to make lunch.

"Yeah," Carter answered from where he sat on his bunk. "It sounded like…like…"

They both turned their heads when they heard it again. It was screaming, and it was coming from Hogan's quarters.

The two men ran to the door with lightening speed, and flung it open, instantly noticing Newkirk thrashing around on the bottom bunk, crying out in terror. A second later they were at his side, trying to wake him up.

"Newkirk! It's all right; it's just a dream, wake up, mon ami!"

"Yeah, buddy, everything's okay, you're safe now. C'mon Newkirk, wake up!"

Newkirk opened his terror-filled eyes. He looked up to see LeBeau leaning over him, and Carter sitting on the edge of the bunk. The sergeant's hand was on his shoulder, and they were both looking back at him worriedly. As his consciousness returned, he realized he'd had another nightmare. He blinked a few times, and then said, "I'm all right…just 'ad a bad dream, is all."

"That must have been some dream!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Yeah, you were yelling pretty loud there, Newkirk," Carter added.

"I was? Uh, sorry about that, mates."

LeBeau smiled. "That's okay, Pierre. Hey, you woke up just in time for lunch; you have good timing!"

"That depends on what you're fixin' for us, doesn't it, Louis?" Newkirk answered, smirking at him.

LeBeau scowled. "I can see you're back to your old self," he huffed in mock indignation, and then smiled again.

Newkirk grinned, then suddenly glanced around the room. "Say, where's the colonel?" he asked.

"Oh, he's in Klink's office," Carter told him. "He had to go there earlier because Klink wanted to yell at him some more about leaving camp to find you. Then he told him that he needed a work detail to help with some road repair. The colonel came back to tell us about it, and to ask for volunteers. Now he's over there letting Klink know how many prisoners are willing to help out."

Newkirk's smile widened. "Why do I 'ave the feelin' that the answer to that question is, zero?"

The three men started to chuckle, when Hogan suddenly appeared in the room.

"Newkirk, you're awake!" Hogan exclaimed, glancing at him, then at his other two men that were hovering over him. It didn't take him long to figure out why they were there. "I take it you had another nightmare," he said, lowering his voice.

"Yes, sir," Newkirk admitted, "But I'm all right now."

"That's good, because I think we have something to discuss," Hogan stated.

"Oh, Colonel, how did Klink take the news about the volunteers?" Carter asked.

"How do you think he took it?" Hogan answered, flashing him a lopsided grin, "But, he was willing to make some concessions, so, unfortunately, some of you will be helping with a little road repair."

"Well, as long as we're getting something out of it," LeBeau grumbled, then started to head for the door. "I better go make lunch, Colonel," he said as he slipped out into the main barracks.

Hogan stared at Carter for a moment. "Why don't you go see if LeBeau needs any help?" he finally said.

Carter's eyes widened, "Are you serious, Colonel? I mean, LeBeau doesn't like anyone helping him…"

"Carter!" Hogan exclaimed, then looked at his confused face and replied, "Just go."

"Oh!" Carter responded as he realized Hogan wanted to talk to Newkirk. "Okay, I'm going." He got up and left the room, closing the door on the way out.

Hogan shook his head, then went over and sat down on the chair by his desk, which was still facing the bottom bunk. "Newkirk," he said, and then let out a huge sigh, "We have to talk."


	18. Returning to normal

* * *

A/N: I would like to thank everyone so much for their reviews! And I would also like to thank ColHogan for her idea that I used at the end of this chapter. I hope you have all enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

* * *

Newkirk sat up on the lower bunk, swung his legs over the side, and planted his feet firmly on the floor. He tossed the blanket aside and looked at Hogan, steeling himself for the conversation that he knew was coming.

Hogan stared back, and, satisfied that Newkirk was ready, asked, "How are you feeling, Newkirk?"

Newkirk looked surprised; he hadn't been expecting that to be Hogan's first question. "Better, sir, now that I've 'ad a wee bit of rest."

"Even after that nightmare?"

"Yes, sir."

"Steiger again?" Hogan guessed.

Newkirk nodded, wondering when Hogan was going to get to the point.

Hogan shifted in his chair. Then he cleared his throat and said, "I thought you should know…I told the others what happened to you at that SS Facility."

Newkirk's eyes widened with surprise. "You did, Colonel? Why?"

"Because they needed to know," Hogan answered, keeping his gaze steady.

Newkirk could feel his anger rising. "What, the whole bloody camp?"

"No, Newkirk; just Kinch, LeBeau, Carter, and Wilson."

Newkirk's expression quickly changed to concern. "Carter knows?" he said, barely above a whisper, "I was 'opin' to spare 'im…'ow did 'e take it?"

"Better than you think," Hogan replied reassuringly, "Carter may be a little naïve, but he's a lot stronger and smarter than we give him credit for, sometimes. He was pretty shocked; they all were. But they can handle it, and that includes Carter."

Newkirk thought it over for a moment. "I know, sir…you're right. But I still don't understand why you thought they needed to know."

Hogan leaned in and stared into Newkirk's eyes, "Because you need to start talking about it."

Newkirk looked surprised again. "I did that already; I told you."

"That's not enough, Newkirk. Wilson and I both agree that you'll recover a lot faster if you talk it out with someone, get it out in the open; instead of keeping it all bottled up inside."

Newkirk sighed. "Aw, Colonel, you know 'ow much I 'ate doin' that."

"I know," Hogan said, nodding, "But it might make your nightmares finally go away. And you can still talk to me, you know, but now you've got four other guys who are just dying to help you. Why don't you give them a chance?"

Newkirk stared at Hogan, pursing his lips, at first irritated at him for telling the others what happened, and suggesting he had to talk out his problems. But as he thought about it, a part of him deep down realized that Hogan was right. If he was ever going to get over the nightmares and return to some semblance of normal, he had to get that whole, sordid mess out of his system. "I guess there's no 'arm in tryin'," he replied at last.

Hogan smiled. "No, there isn't. Besides, I think you'll find it a much better solution than those sleeping pills…"

Newkirk inwardly winced, _'Ere it comes!_

Just then there was a knock on the door, and LeBeau poked his head in. "Lunch is ready, Colonel."

"Thanks, LeBeau," Hogan said. As he stood up, he glanced at Newkirk. "Looks like our next topic of conversation will have to wait."

* * * * * *

Lunch was a rather muted affair. Newkirk remained fairly quiet; partly from the dread he was feeling over what Hogan was going to discuss with him when they were through eating, and partly from the embarrassment he felt over the fact that the rest of the guys now knew what he'd been through. When the meal was over, he didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. As he'd expected, Hogan indicated that he wanted to speak to him in his quarters, and he decided to go with scared. But before they entered the small room, the colonel told Carter to go get Wilson, and inform the medic to report to his office.

Newkirk once again took a seat on the lower bunk, while Hogan sat down on the chair facing him. Hogan leaned back, folded his arms, and said, "I assume you know what I want to talk to you about, Newkirk."

"Yes, sir," Newkirk responded in a small voice, "The sleepin' pills."

Hogan nodded. "That's right. However, I think we should wait until Wilson gets here, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Newkirk muttered dejectedly.

The silence stretched interminably as they waited for Wilson; Newkirk getting more anxious by the minute. At last the medic arrived, and he inwardly breathed a sigh of relief; just wanting to get it over with at this point.

"You wanted to see me, Colonel?" Wilson asked as he entered the room.

"Yes, Wilson," Hogan answered, "I think it's time for us to have our little talk with Newkirk, here."

"I take it you're referring to the sleeping pills, Colonel," Wilson said as he shut the door. He walked over to Hogan's desk and leaned against it, facing the two men.

Newkirk had had enough; he couldn't take the suspense anymore. "Look, I know I stole those ruddy sleepin' pills," he blurted out, "And I can't tell you 'ow sorry I am, but I promise, I'll never do anythin' like that again."

"It's not that simple, Newkirk," Hogan said, "Not only did you take those pills without permission, but you stole them out of Wilson's footlocker! How are we supposed to trust you, when you seem to be willing to steal from one of us?"

"You know, Newkirk," Wilson interjected, "If you had just come to me and asked, I could have helped you, and you wouldn't have ended up hooked on those things. I don't understand why you felt you had to creep into my barracks and take them…"

"I was afraid you'd say no," Newkirk answered meekly.

Hogan frowned. "That's no excuse, Newkirk. What you did is very serious. By all rights I should kick you off the team…maybe even send you home."

Newkirk's eyes momentarily widened in shock, and then his face fell. "I know, Colonel, you're right," he replied, his expression filled with remorse, "I never should 'ave done it. I just wanted to get some sleep, and those ruddy pills 'elped, didn't they? But I 'ad no right to steal 'em, and I deserve whatever punishment you 'ave in mind for me. I'm sorry, I really am. Especially for what I did to you, Wilson," he looked up at the medic, "I 'ope you can forgive me."

Wilson studied Newkirk for a moment. At last he said, "Yes, I can forgive you…on two conditions."

"Anythin', Wilson," Newkirk eagerly replied.

"Number one; the next time you need help with something, just ask."

Newkirk nodded vigorously, "I will, believe me; I've learned me lesson!"

Wilson nodded in acknowledgment. "And number two…"

"Yes?"

"Stay out of my footlocker!"

Newkirk blushed, "I promise, Wilson, I'll never, ever do that again."

"All right, Newkirk," Wilson responded, a small smile appearing on his face, "I believe you."

"Well, Wilson may have forgiven you, Newkirk," Hogan now said, "But I still have to decide what to do with you." He paused as he studied Newkirk with a stern expression. "I do understand why you were having so much trouble sleeping, and I know how much you've suffered at the hands of that maniac, Steiger. Still, you had no right stealing those pills…" he paused again briefly, then continued, "But, in light of everything you've been through, I'm willing to consider your punishment, 'time served'."

"'Time served', Colonel?" Newkirk looked confused.

Wilson grinned, "It means you're off the hook."

"Only on the condition that you never, _ever_, do anything like that again," Hogan added.

The relief on Newkirk's face could have been seen from the other side of the compound. "I promise, Colonel; never again…I mean it!"

Hogan's expression softened. "I know you do, Newkirk," he replied, holding his gaze for a moment. Then he unfolded his arms, slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. "Well, let's hope things can get back to normal around here now," he said, glancing over at Wilson and back to Newkirk.

"Oh, Colonel," Wilson piped up, "While I'm here, I'd like to examine Newkirk, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Wilson," Hogan replied, "I've got some things to take care of, anyway." He walked over to the door and opened it, glancing back at the men in his quarters one more time before he left; closing the door behind him.

When Hogan had gone, Wilson got down to business. "Okay, Newkirk, you know the drill; off with your shirt."

"To be honest, Wilson, I'm feelin' much better…"

Wilson frowned. "Take your shirt off, Newkirk."

Newkirk reluctantly obeyed; first removing his jacket, and then gingerly pulling his shirt up over his head.

Wilson came over and examined the cut on Newkirk's chest. "Looks like it's scabbed over pretty well," he remarked. Then he gestured for Newkirk to hold out his hands so he could inspect his wrists, noticing that his hands weren't shaking as much as they'd been the previous night. "Your wrists look good, too," he replied.

"You're not goin' to put any more of that stuff on me cuts, are you?" Newkirk asked nervously.

Wilson inwardly smirked. "Why, do you want me to?"

"No!"

Wilson laughed. "Don't worry, I don't think it's necessary; your cuts look like they're healing nicely." He took a few steps back. "Okay, you can put your shirt on." As Newkirk got dressed, Wilson studied him for a few moments. When the corporal was finished, he asked him, "So, how _are_ you feeling, Newkirk?"

"A mite better; after me nap."

"Any nightmares?"

"Just one," Newkirk answered, looking uncomfortable.

"You want to talk about it?" Wilson asked him quietly.

"I, uh," Newkirk stammered, "I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you. I'm…just not ready."

Wilson nodded. "That's okay, Newkirk, I understand. But I hope you'll be ready to discuss what you've been through, soon. It really will help you get over the nightmares, and you know you've got friends willing to listen."

"I know, Colonel Hogan mentioned that to me, earlier. And I'm willin' to give it a try; only, I just need a little more time."

Wilson smiled. "Fair enough."

Just then Hogan returned. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked as he entered the room.

"Just finished, Colonel," Wilson replied, then turned to the corporal, "I'll come by tomorrow to check on those cuts again, Newkirk. I want to keep an eye on them, at least for a few more days."

"All right, Wilson," Newkirk said.

Wilson glanced over at Hogan, "Well, if there's nothing further you need me for, Colonel…"

"No, Wilson, you can go; I'm sure you have things to do."

"Yes, sir, I do," Wilson replied, grinning at him, and then headed for the door.

Newkirk started to follow the medic out of the room, but Hogan stopped him.

"Newkirk, before you go, I need to speak with you," Hogan said. When he saw the exasperation creeping into Newkirk's expression he added, "It won't take long."

"All right, Colonel," Newkirk replied as he plodded over and took a seat on the bottom bunk again. He looked up at Hogan, wondering with more than a little frustration what else the colonel could possibly have to discuss.

"Newkirk," Hogan said, leaning against his desk, "I owe you an apology."

Newkirk's eyes shot up with surprise, "You do, sir?"

"Yes, I do. I should have believed you all those times you said you saw Steiger. Maybe if I had listened to you, we wouldn't have ended up in the mess we did."

Newkirk certainly hadn't been expecting Hogan to bring that up. "Aw, Colonel, you can't blame yourself for that! 'Ow could you 'ave believed me? I didn't believe it, meself! I thought I'd gone crackers there, for a while."

"I know, and to be honest, I thought you had, too." Hogan flashed him an apologetic smile, "But I should have realized you weren't just seeing things; especially when all those missions required your presence. I _am_ sorry, Newkirk; I promise I won't doubt you again."

Newkirk felt his mouth curving up into a smirk. "Even if I start seein' Steiger?"

"Newkirk, if you start seeing Steiger again, _I'm_ going home!" Hogan replied, chuckling.

"And I'll be right behind you, Colonel!" Newkirk laughed.

Hogan laughed with him; it felt good to be able to do that, now that everything was said and done. After a few moments they stopped, and Hogan remarked, "Well, what do you say we put all this behind us, Newkirk, and get back to work?"

"I couldn't 'ave said it better, meself!" Newkirk agreed. He stood up, and together with Hogan, headed out into the barracks to rejoin the rest of the men; both of them looking forward to returning to a more normal routine. Or, what passed for normal at Stalag 13.

* * * * * *

Newkirk continued to have trouble sleeping for the next several nights; being woken up a few more times by vivid nightmares. On the third night, after tossing and turning for a while, he finally gave up and jumped quietly down from his bunk, tiptoed to the false-bottom bunk, and climbed down to the tunnel.

Kinch was still down there, monitoring the radio, and looked up when Newkirk appeared. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked the Englishman.

"No, mate," Newkirk answered, "I didn't think you'd mind a bit of company."

"Not at all," Kinch said. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

Newkirk studied him for a moment. At last he replied, "Yeah, Kinch, there is."

Newkirk started from the beginning; when he was captured and brought to the SS facility, what his first encounter had been like with Yevgenij, and his initial meeting with Steiger. He described the terror he'd felt, the horror at being forced to watch Dimitrov killed, his utter despair when Yevgenij had been tortured to death, and his helplessness to prevent it. Then he told him about the nightmares, and the guilt he was feeling when Steiger had Hogan on the table. At times his eyes teared up a little, but he fought them off, and when he was through, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Kinch remained fairly quiet throughout Newkirk's narration, and when the Englishman had finished, he looked at him and said, "You really have been through a lot, Newkirk; not many men could have handled all that as well as you have."

Newkirk held the Sergeant's gaze for a moment. "Thanks Kinch," he replied sincerely, "I just 'ope me nightmares stop soon…I'd like to be done with all this, you know?"

"I know. I think you will be." Kinch smiled. "Thanks for telling me what happened, Newkirk. And just remember; no matter what Steiger said, you know that none of it was your fault, right?"

Newkirk sighed. "I know. Just wish I could convince me brain of that!"

"You will." Kinch replied, staring at him, "You gotta give yourself a chance, okay?"

Newkirk stared back, then a small smile appeared on his face. "Okay," he responded. Then he glanced around the tunnel, and suddenly realized how tired he was. "Well, I think I'll 'ead up to the barracks, and try to get some sleep."

"You do that," Kinch replied, smiling wide.

Newkirk returned the sergeant's smile, and then got up and climbed back up to the barracks, stepping quietly over to his bunk. He hopped up on it and stretched out, and within minutes, he was fast asleep.

* * * * * *

A few more days passed, and Newkirk gradually found himself sleeping better. The nightmares began to fade, occurring less often, and with less intensity. During the next few weeks he did start opening up a little more to the others, especially when he was feeling particularly stressed or anxious, and was almost surprised to realize that it was helping him cope with what he'd been through. And, true to their word, the guys were more than willing to listen, though he found that he was most comfortable talking to Kinch. His sleeping pattern returned to normal at last, and he felt better than he had in months.

Physically, Newkirk recovered fairly quickly. As his withdrawal symptoms from the sleeping pills disappeared, so did the tremors, and as his sleep improved, his anxiety level dropped, and his thoughts became clear once again. His cuts remained infection-free and healed up in no time, although he would always carry a scar on his chest; a permanent of reminder of Steiger's insanity.

As another week came and went, Newkirk started to notice that Hogan seemed to be a little more on edge than usual, and began to wonder if the colonel was having trouble dealing with what Steiger had put him through. He made a few attempts to get him to talk about it, but Hogan didn't seem interested. Then one evening, after an exceptionally stressful mission, Wilson happened to come by, and Hogan asked to speak to him in his quarters. They were in there for a long time, and when Wilson left, Hogan appeared to be back to his old self. Newkirk inwardly smiled; he was glad the medic was able to get Hogan to open up at last.

The next night, when lights out was announced and everyone climbed into their bunks, Newkirk lay there for a few minutes, letting his thoughts swirl around in his head. His relief that everything seemed to have returned to normal was first and foremost in his mind, followed by his confidence that he was finally more or less back to normal, himself, and that Steiger would one day be just a distant, bad memory. As he drifted off to sleep, he realized he hadn't had a nightmare in a long time, and he was thankful for that.

"_Open your eyes…I have a present for you…"_

"_What? Where am I?" _

"_You're in my dream…now, open your eyes…"_

_Steiger opened his eyes. He was lying on the table this time, and when he looked up, he saw Newkirk standing over him, holding a scalpel in his hand. "What? You can't do this to me; you're afraid of me!" He shouted._

"_Not anymore, Steiger," Newkirk answered, and glanced across the table. _

_Steiger followed his gaze, and saw Hogan standing there. "It's you! You shot me! You will pay for that!" Then he noticed Kinch standing next to Hogan. "You will pay, too!" Suddenly Carter and LeBeau appeared next to Kinch. "You will all pay!" he yelled._

"_Aren't you forgettin' somethin'?" Newkirk asked calmly._

"_What?" Steiger snarled at him._

"_You're the one strapped to the table." Newkirk replied, brandishing the scalpel over Steiger's chest._

_Steiger's eyes suddenly grew wide with fear." "No, please, you can't kill me, not like that! No, let me go! Don't hurt me!" _

_Newkirk smiled. He dropped his hand and said, "No, I won't. I'm not like you. I just wanted to see 'ow you liked it, for a change. Besides," he leaned in and whispered quietly, "You're already dead."_

"_No!" Steiger screamed, "I can't be dead! Nooo…" His voice faded as he began to disappear; then he was gone, winking out of existence._

_Newkirk looked up at Hogan, and saw that he was smiling. Then he glanced at Kinch, Carter and LeBeau, who also had smiles on their faces. "Let's get out of 'ere," he said, and everyone nodded. Then they walked out of the room together._

Newkirk opened his eyes, realizing he'd been dreaming. He turned his head and glanced briefly around the dark barracks. Then he smiled, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

THE END


End file.
